


Shouts from the Rooftop

by WritingEmi



Series: Quiet Spaces [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Polyamory, Sexual Content, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2019-07-16 08:41:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 22,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16082537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingEmi/pseuds/WritingEmi
Summary: Kaaras Adaar is thrilled that he and the Iron Bull are moving forward with their relationship with Dorian, but Adaar knows that the path forward isn't always a smooth one.Or, a modern Thedas fic where Dorian is still in the middle of a Qunari sandwich and a continuation of Filling Quiet Spaces.





	1. Transitions

**Author's Note:**

> This will probably be a very slow fill, but I thought that posting the first chapter might help keep me writing :)
> 
> Also, if you haven't read the first fic, you should probably do so before reading this one.

_He was the first person Adaar noticed._

_It was hard not to notice him. Even in a crowded gallery filled with friends and inspired Dalish paintings, he stood out to Adaar. It wasn’t even about his obvious Tevinter heritage, but it did have everything else to do with his appearance. He was tall for a human, statuesque even, with silver eyes that were bright in the gallery lights and dressed in a way that flattered all aspects of his body. The man was so pretty it nearly hurt to look at him and Adaar knew right away that such a man would be physically and socially far out of his orbit, like a distant and brilliant star._

_Those silver eyes lazily scanned the room, taking in the people and paintings, almost an island to himself with only the occasional visitor. His lips curled under a perfectly styled mustache into half smiles as he made small talk to the women who approached him. His laugh was perfectly polite, his posture friendly as he loosely holding a flute of champagne, taking the occasional short and measured sip. But of those pretty women who approached him, none seemed to really capture the man’s attention._

_Also standing on his own, Adaar was glad that the Iron Bull was running late and did not stand witness to Adaar watching the handsome Tevinter man. Bull would undoubtedly tease him, tell him he was mooning over the pretty human, or even worse, he’d approach the man and flirt. Normally, Adaar could handle Bull’s lighthearted overtures to others, but he was unsure he could have beared the mortification of Bull flirting with someone just so beautiful._

_Trying to be firm, Adaar attempted to put the man out of mind, to concentrate on admiring his friend’s artwork and not the man with brilliant silver eyes and a small, waning smile. Instead Adaar kept his gaze firmly on the paintings that surrounded him, unknowingly inching closer and closer to the man. Just as Adaar was setting his glass of wine down on a nearby table, he stepped back and immediately collided with something warm and solid._

_There was a sudden sharp squeak of indignity paired with the shattering of glass on the floor._

_Adaar’s arms shot out immediately, wrapping around the trim waist of the individual he ran into. His hands were splayed against a sturdy back and the faint scent of jasmine oil filled his nostrils upon close proximity to the individual. In the aftermath of the collision, it took Adaar a couple of seconds to realize that wide silver eyes set in a handsome face were staring straight up at him._

_He nearly flushed as it dawned on him that he almost knocked down the beautiful man and spilled his drink. In those long seconds that he held the man in his arms, Adaar knew he had to say something both witty and apologetic, to come off as both sincere and smooth._

_What actually came out was this:_

_“Oh Maker, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t watching where I was going! Are you ok?”_

-

A lifetime was packed neatly away. Momentos, knick knacks, and photographs were tucked away from sight and stored carefully in brown cardboard boxes. Bookshelves once laden with great works of literature and academic monographs were now bare. Fine Tevinter china and chipped everyday dishes were packed and cupboards and the china cabinet sat empty. Boxes were stacked along barren walls and scrubbed floorboards, occupying space that was once filled with memories of a life loved and lived, a space that became a quiet memorial to what once was.

The townhouse was hollowed out, all the evidence of that life was gone and the only things left were large pieces of furniture and cardboard boxes to keep the rooms weighed down. Open windows allowed the fresh morning breeze in, mixing with the sterile scent of household cleaners and bleach that permeated the air. Sunlight poured in through unobstructed windows, the curtains were taken down and allowed the light to stretch uninterrupted across the hardwood floors.

That emptiness heralded such opportunity.

Kaaras Adaar couldn’t deny his excitement, the thrum of happiness that beat through him as he wandered through the empty rooms and checked drawers and closets for anything left behind. The only thing Adaar spied in those nooks and crannies were dust bunnies that had yet to meet their end and the lingering smell of chemicals and fake lemon.

A short beep from his phone filled the hallway that Adaar was standing in, a short message illuminating the screen as he slid it out of his pocket.

_Just left the house. We’re on our way! Sera says Bull better come through on the donuts and coffee._

And soon things would be set into motion. Adaar could hardly wait.

The wooden stairs under his feet creaked as he made his way down to the main floor. The tight spaces and narrow hallways of the townhouse blocked the sightlines, but Adaar quickly found Dorian in the living room, his back to Adaar and hand against the wall.

Fingertips ran over the gently textured wall, painted a pale grey as Dorian asked the hollow room, “It was never meant to be permanent, was it, amatus?”

Adaar was unsure if Dorian was speaking to him.

Instead of answering where an answer might be unwanted, Adaar closed the space between them in a few long strong strides. His arms wrapped securely around Dorian’s torso, drawing his form close to Adaar’s body as he dropped his chin in lush, dark hair. Adaar took in a deep breath, his toes curling in his shoes, Dorian smelled of fresh soap and shampoo with a tingle of mint from the products.

“Everything upstairs is cleaned and I double checked all of the closets and drawers, we didn't miss anything,” Adaar reported dutifully. “Dagna sent me a text, she said she and Sera are heading over.”

Dorian's hands grasped Adaar’s arms, his fingers digging into exposed, grey flesh as fingernails bit in slightly. “Thank you, amatus.”

“No problem. Now all we have to do is wait for Bull to come with breakfast and for Cullen and Lavellan to come with the moving truck and then we can start moving these boxes out of here.”

“I hope you added a few more rooms to the house, because I have no idea where all of this is going to go.” A long sigh caused Dorian to sink back against Adaar's chest, melting against him as tense muscles eased even at the stressed statement.

“We've got plenty of room, kadan,” Adaar's optimism was spilling over, he held no doubts, not at this point. “We cleared out a bunch of things that we aren't using and put some stuff in storage in the attic.” A soft hum of contentment vibrated through Adaar's large body. “I can't wait for you to be all moved in.”

Dorian rolled his eyes, his smile softening as he tipped his face up towards Adaar. “You know that I've pretty much been moved in for the last month, I haven't slept over here in weeks and all of my essentials are already at your house.”

“Our house,” Adaar corrected immediately, “and it's not official yet, not till all of your stuff is there.” His arms squeezed Dorian tighter. “I'm so happy you're moving in.”

While Adaar wasn’t as observant as Bull, he wasn’t blind, wasn’t so naive to think that this move didn’t stir up a myriad of emotions within Dorian. This was the first home Dorian owned, home that Dorian had shared with a much beloved husband, and the home that they crossed into as newlyweds. It was also the home where Dorian nursed an ailing Felix to the best of his abilities and bore the silence of his absence.

But Adaar couldn’t hide his own pleasure and he hoped it was infectious, that it helped to quiet any doubts and reservations that Dorian might have about leaving.

"Yes, well,” Dorian started, his voice thick and a little wobbly, “I do rather enjoy being with you and Bull.” He sucked in a long breath. “And it’s not like I’m not giving this place up entirely, I rather hope Krem and Lace will be easy tenants.”

“Well, if they’re difficult, you have two large Qunari boyfriends to collect the rent for you,” Adaar teased, causing Dorian to let out a short snort of laughter.

The front door opened quietly and Bull's treacherously light footsteps were faint in the empty space, his feet missing every squeaky floorboard. Sometimes just the lack of noise alerted Adaar to Bull’s presence, the distinct and careful tread of his steps and the near silence of his breath.

“Donuts and coffee are here!” Bull's voice boomed out. “Cullen and Lavellan weren't far behind of me, they'll be here in a sec.”

Well, the Iron Bull wasn’t _always_ quiet, Adaar thought with fond exasperation.

Straightening up in Adaar's arms at Bull’s call, Dorian said with a small, breathy sigh, “I suppose it's time to get back to work.”

The relative stillness of the townhouse was broken by the quick succession of people arriving. Dorian's friends came bustling in, hovering around the kitchen island to select donuts from the large white box Bull brought in and to fill paper cups from the carafe of hot coffee. They lingered there, chewing and laughing, chatting about the good times they had in Dorian and Felix's home.

“Remember when Felix was so drunk that he fought a chair with a coat on it because he thought it was that dwarf who was hitting on fancy britches?” Sera recalled with a muffled giggled, her mouth half full of a cinnamon donut and spraying bits of sugar and crumbs.

“A chair?” Adaar asked, the very thought tickling him as he laughed gently.

“He thought it was an old fling of Dorian's who came to visit as I recall,” Cullen explained and Adaar hungrily listened to any little insight into Dorian’s past. “To give Felix credit, the man was a dwarf and it was his coat that was draped over the chair.”

“No, don't give Felix any credit for that incident,” Dorian sniffed indignantly, his lips bowing down into something akin to a scowl. “That may have been the single most humiliating moment of my life.”

“You're just in a huff because smarty britches fought a chair and not the dwarf,” Sera stuck out her crumb covered tongue.

“I would have been even more mortified if he had actually hit Cadash.”

“Your man getting all jealous and fighting for you? I bet you liked it,” Bull's elbow lightly dug into Dorian's ribs.

Dorian only rolled his eyes and stuffed another bite of donut into his mouth with a slight grimace. The easy laugh lines around Dorian’s eyes were missing and there was no amusement mixed in with his annoyance. Adaar’s gaze met Bull’s for a few seconds.

_What was that?_ Adaar silently asked, but Bull’s pale eye revealed no answers for him. He seemed as equally puzzled.

“Oh! And remember that time smarty britches locked himself out and got stuck in the window?” Sera began again and Dorian’s lips finally spread out into a smile.

“Wasn't that you, Sera?” Lavellan asked.

“Well, yeah, one time, but then Felix did it too.”

Once the donuts were consumed and the stories tapered off, a flurry of activity filled the space with people grabbing boxes and hefting the larger pieces of furniture in pairs. There were grunts of effort, people asking others for help, giving the best suggestions for maneuvering tight corners, and Lavellan barking orders as she stood by the moving truck. She stood there authoritatively, giving direction on the best way to load the boxes and pointing sharply with one hand while the other rested on the gentle curve of her stomach.

The move seemed to happen rather quickly as the early morning fell way and rumbling stomachs heralded the approaching noon hour. The boxes vanished from their neat piles as did most of the furniture. Only the couch and the dining room set were left behind for Dorian's new tenants. Everything was tucked into the moving truck that pulled away from the street with Cullen at the wheel.

Adaar found Dorian in the empty kitchen, his silver eyes with a sharp gleam were combing the stretches of empty space. Stepping next to Dorian, Adaar took his hand, lacing their fingers together. A slow smile curled under Dorian’s mustache.

“So amatus, ready to head home?”

“Absolutely, kadan.”

Adaar couldn’t help but to muse over all the effort that was put into packing up and hauling Dorian’s boxes and furniture only to move them a short few miles away to the house. The move was so insignificant that Dorian’s zip code didn’t even change. No one uttered a word about it though, as their friends happily helped to unload the moving truck and ferried Dorian’s things into his new home. 

Adaar, along with Lavellan, tried to direct people to place boxes and items to certain rooms, tried to make sure that Dorian’s things made it into the house in an organized manner, but it was in vain. With too many hands and too many things to be moved from the truck, much of it was left haphazard where there was free space. Not that Adaar minded, he was happy to see Dorian’s things mingled in with his and Bull’s, adding another layer of memories to their home.

He couldn’t wait to get into those boxes and have Dorian fully moved in.

By noon the sun had climbed up high in the sky and the surprising heat of a Ferelden summer could be felt in the air by the time the last of the boxes were cleared out of the moving truck. Tired from an early morning and physical labor, everyone began to migrate to the backyard where freshly delivered pizzas, cold beer, and sodas were being served. 

But as Adaar’s eyes swept the backyard filled with their friends, he didn’t see either Dorian or Bull.

Long minutes stretched out before him as the pizza began to fall to Sera’s bottomless stomach and Adaar wondered if he should go find them. Worry bubbled up in him, even though he was unsure what he should be anxious about. But Bull seemed to anticipate him, emerging from the house with Dorian and his large grey hand settled on the back of Dorian’s neck.

They shared a look as the corner Bull’s mouth tugged upward as Dorian extracted himself from Bull’s grip and pressed a kiss on Adaar’s cheek as he passed him as he headed towards an empty lawn chair. _What happened?_ Adaar wondered, watching as Dorian sat down and was offered a cold beer and a couple wide slices of cheese pizza. But the worry evaporated as Dorian relaxed in his seat, tension unwinding with Adaar as he watched Dorian’s tongue darting out to lick a bit sauce from his lips. 

Whatever it was, he trusted Bull to fix it or to come to him later.

After the pizzas and beer disappeared, everyone began to disperse to carry on with their weekends. Bull busied himself with cleaning up the dishes from lunch while Lavellan lingered on the front porch with Dorian after Dagna and Sera left. 

Cullen took the opportunity to remind Adaar, “I was hoping to borrow that chainsaw from you, like we talked about the other.”

“Oh, right! Those big tree limbs came down in your backyard last week. It’s in the garage, I’ll go get it.”

“Maker’s breath,” Dorian said loudly from the porch with Lavellan. “With a baby on the way, now is not the time to take off your arm attempting to use a chainsaw, Cullen.”

Cullen sighed and rolled his eyes. “You know that I was a Templar and I was raised on a farm.”

“That somehow inspires even less confidence in me.”

“Andraste help me,” Cullen muttered under his breath as he followed Adaar to the detached garage.

It didn’t take long for Adaar to locate the requested chainsaw. It hung on its spot on the wall in the neat and orderly garage, Bull’s old military precision permeated even that small corner of their lives. The workbench with Bull’s half-finished projects was meticulously organized. The floor was swept of dirt and sawdust, cobwebs were routinely cleaned, and tools, gardening supplies, and little odds and ends all had their designated place.

“Here you go,” Adaar said, “no rush in getting it back. We won’t need it any time soon”

“Thanks, Ellana will appreciate having those tree limbs cleared away.” Taking the chainsaw from Adaar, Cullen added suddenly, “I wanted to speak to you privately.”

Raising an eyebrow though not totally surprised, Adaar asked, “What’s on your mind, Cullen?”

The Fereldan straightened his strong back, his height impressive for a human and his darkened amber eyes easily met Adaar’s. “You know how much Ellana and I care about Dorian,” he started, his voice skirting the edge of a warning.

Despite the commanding nature of Cullen’s tone, Adaar suppressed the smile forming on his face. “Yes, I do.”

“And you know what will happen to you and Bull should either of you hurt Dorian.”

The muscles of Adaar’s face ached as he tried to keep his expression solemn. “I imagine no one would find our bodies.”

“That is correct,” Cullen nodded sharply. “I’m glad we had this talk.”

A soft chuckle escaped, though it was fond and understanding. “Me too.”

“You’re both good for him, even Ellana thinks so,” Cullen’s face softened. “Neither of us has seen him this happy since before Felix became ill.”

There was an unspoken trust that Cullen was offering him and Adaar was glad to have his confidence.

“All I want,” Adaar found himself saying, “is for Dorian and Bull to both be happy.”

“Yeah,” Cullen gave Adaar a lopsided smile, his grin tugging at the scar on his lip, “I know.”

Walking out of the garage, Adaar spotted Dorian and Lavellan still standing on the porch in the afternoon sun and whispering to each other as they often did. But this time Lavellan’s face was pinched as they talked, lines creased her Dalish features and Dorian stood with his shoulders hunched forward with his arms crossed protectively over his chest.

“Ellana is probably pestering him about something,” Cullen tried to reassure, though his flat smile and vague reassurance did little to soothe the concern Adaar felt.

Adaar itched to pry, but he knew better than to butt into Dorian and Lavellan’s friendship. Lavellan made it abundantly clear that if she wanted Adaar or Bull to know something, she’d tell them directly, sometimes to Dorian’s dismay.

Dorian’s eyes lifted up from Lavellan’s face and met Adaar’s worried look. His arms fell to his sides and any sign of distress was quickly concealed as he sassed to Adaar, “So, amatus, you’re really going to let him borrow that limb cutter.”

“I’m not going to cut off any limbs!” Cullen protested and continued to protest as such even after Lavellan shoved him to the car.

As their friends pulled out of the driveway, Adaar was immediately elated. The shadow cast by Dorian’s whispered conversation with Lavellan diminished in the realization that Dorian was home. There would no longer be a need for Dorian to dash over to the townhouse because he forgot something, needed a certain shirt, or had to pick up his mail. With the exception of some large furniture left behind, everything was there at the house and if Dorian needed anything, all he had to do was open a drawer or closet.

“Come on, let’s get you unpacked,” Adaar said brightly, his hand clapping on Dorian’s back with enough enthusiastic force to make the other mage lurch just a little as they made their way inside. “I’ve got a list of all of the boxes and where they need to go.”

“What? You have a list?” Dorian blinked up at him, an eyebrow arching delicately.

“I numbered them last night by which room they should go in based on their contents,” Adaar explained, watching as Dorian’s eyes widened. “There are only three boxes that aren’t assigned a room since you just threw odds and ends into them, but I know where they go. Here, I can text it to you.”

“What?”

“Let’s take a rest, boss,” Bull quickly intervened as he emerged from the kitchen, his voice stressing his teasing nickname for Adaar, “the boxes will be there tomorrow and we’ve been working hard all week packing things up. Plus there’s a football game on, Val Royeaux is playing Antiva City.”

Adaar stuck out his bottom lip.

“Don’t pout, kadan, it’s not as cute as you think.”

There was a little disappointment that neither Bull nor Dorian was enthused about unpacking, but Adaar could concede to the point that they all had a long week. The disappointment faded as he watched Dorian rest his head in Bull’s lap as they settled on the couch and as grey fingers easily slid into dark hair, blunt fingernails scratching idly at Dorian’s scalp.

It was a picturesque scene and Adaar longed to settle on the couch with them, sink into warm embraces and let the afternoon slip away into lazy contentment. But the flickering images of the TV screen of football players running up and down the field did little to entice Adaar and he quickly found himself drawn to the boxes, ready to be unpacked.

The boxes designated for the living room were dragged in, opened, and Adaar dove in. Books of Tevinter literature were placed next to Varric’s novels on the bookshelves and tomes on necromancy and time magic were placed next to volumes on Rift magic. A hand painted box from Antiva, an old dormant rune from Nevarra, and other trinkets from Dorian’s travels were placed side by side with Bull’s collection of dragon figurines and Adaar’s small obsidian replica of an Inquisitor’s helm. A warm, hand knitted throw blanket that once adorned Dorian’s couch was draped over the armchair. 

And then there were photographs, wrapped carefully in tissue paper and framed in high gloss wood and silverite. Some were of the three of them, others of Dorian’s friends, but most of the photos were of Dorian and Felix. Adaar sat cross legged on the floor next to the open box, carefully removing each framed photo, his fingers avoiding smudging the glass as he examined them with a little smile on his face.

He loved the photos of Dorian and Felix. Their faces were always alight with joy and their looks always spoke of a mutual love and understanding. Adaar took his time going over Dorian’s wedding photos, Dorian appeared especially stunning in his dark suit with red accents, makeup and hair done perfectly, and the sheer happiness across his face. It wasn’t just Dorian’s beauty that gave Adaar pause, but also images of the ceremony, of standing up in front of friends and family in mutual commitment and love.

It reminded Adaar that his parents would laugh at something so charmingly _southern_. Adaar could easily hear his father’s quiet chuckle and in his soft voice that made Qunlat sound gentle, kindly admonish, _“Leave it to southerners to complicate something as simple as love with marriage.”_ Bull had laughed along with Dad and Tama at that line with an understanding that Tal-Vashoth shared amongst themselves.

A sweet ache of longing spread through Adaar’s chest while looking down at a photo of Dorian and Felix standing at the altar with their hands joined together

Adaar chose some of his favorite to put up immediately and he placed the photographs around the room with care. He took down some of the dust covered frames on the wall and the standing frames scattered on tables and shelves, replacing them with his curated selection from Dorian’s box. All of Dorian’s photos of the three of them ended up somewhere and more than a few of him with Felix made their way onto prime real estate on the walls.

“Don’t you dare take down the picture from the Orlesian Dragon Reserve!” Bull warned with real urgency as Adaar’s gaze stopped on the framed photo of an overly excited Iron Bull cradling a baby dragon at the Orlesian facility.

The fond memory of Bull’s delight over their visit to the reserve from years ago filled Adaar’s mind. As a graduate student, Adaar had saved his money from his stipend from his teaching assistant job for months, planned every detail of the trip, and it was all worth it to see the silent awe on Bull’s face before the other Qunari broke out in childlike laughter. He made an idle mental note to plan another visit to the dragon reserve with Dorian in tow.

A smile spread across Adaar’s face, “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good. Now, take a break, Adaar,” Bull urged. “We’ll all work on unpacking tomorrow. Besides, I’m sure if Dorian was awake, he’d have opinions about where you’re putting everything.” He motioned to Dorian’s face with was squished against Bull’s leg and slacken with sleep.

Not wanting to wake Dorian up, Adaar nodded. “Ok, yeah, you’re probably right.” Adaar paused, then asked quietly, “Did something happen earlier? Before lunch?”

Bull’s fingers flexed in Dorian’s hair and he shook his head slightly. “Just got a little emotional, that’s all. He needed a moment.”

Adaar let out a small sigh, guilt churning in his stomach for a brief moment. “I should’ve been watching out for that.”

“You were, I noticed the way you’ve been watching him,” Bull reassured. “It came on pretty sudden, but don’t worry about it. You know he’s happy to be here.”

Going over to the couch, Adaar leaned down to steal a kiss from Bull. Rough lips met his own, lingering for a few precious moments, communicating both affection and gratitude. Adaar was glad that Bull was there for Dorian earlier and Bull was grateful for Adaar’s own diligence. Even after breaking away, their faces hovered close together, foreheads pressed upon each other and horns clinked before Adaar finally straightened up and stepped away.

Adaar sat down over in the armchair, sinking pleasantly into the cushions and aches from that morning decided to make themselves known. When Adaar was in motion, he had lots of energy, but settling down made him realize just how tired he was. Glancing at the TV, he was dismayed to see that the football game was only half over and he decided to close his eyes for just a moment.

Opening his eyes again, Adaar saw that the daylight streaming in the room was considerably dimmer and that a new football game was on. Stretching with a yawn, Adaar got up from the armchair and glanced over at Dorian, who was still napping, and Bull, whose eye was closed and deep, even breaths nearly eclipsed the sound of the football game. 

Reaching for the remote control under Bull’s hand to turn off the TV, he elicited a half grunt and half mumble from Bull. 

“I’m watching that,” a grumpy protest came.

Bull’s single eye was still closed.

“Ok, ok,” Adaar laughed, pressing a kiss on Bull’s forehead before wandering upstairs to his office. Even in the summer, there was work to be done and he was expecting an email from one of his graduate students.

The office was Adaar’s own quiet space since Bull hardly used his desk, usually opting to work in the living room on his laptop with papers spread out everywhere. Much of the decor, books, and piles were all Adaar’s, carving out his own scholarly sanctuary. Though Adaar imagined that Dorian would want to use the space now, not that he minded sharing.

Sitting down at the computer, Adaar opened up his email. The flood of panicked emails from his students at the end of the academic year had ceased with the first days of summer. There were only a few stragglers who were still trying to change their grades and those who were looking ahead to the start of summer classes. He read through them, answering each with his usual attention.

The anticipated email from his graduate student looking to defend her dissertation wasn’t there, though Adaar didn’t doubt that it would appear soon. But there was another email that caught his eye and a jolt of surprise raced through him.

_Evelyn._

Adaar struggled to remember the last time he had heard directly from Evelyn Trevelyan. They were friendly on social media and she was on their list of recipients of Wintersend cards, but Adaar couldn’t think of when they last spoke.

It would be easy to ignore the email, to say that he missed it, that he was too busy with work and his personal life. He’d never have to know what she wanted from him. But in the end, curiosity won out and he clicked on the message.

The email was surprisingly, and mercifully, brief. 

_Kaaras,_

_I hope everything is well with you and Bull. Everything’s the same in Ostwick, as you can imagine. Anyway, I wanted to let you know that I’m going to be in Skyhold in a few weeks to do some research for my next book. I was hoping we could get a cup of coffee or lunch and catch up. Let me know if you’re available, I’d love to see Bull if he’s willing to see me._

_Best,  
Evelyn_

Adaar’s throat unexpectedly tightened. Her words, devoid of their usual teasing and flirting, were stark and to the point, and they had an unusual affect upon him.

_if he’s willing to see me_

Time had put distance between them, but an old hurt still stung Adaar, leaving him to wonder why he kept up the association. It seemed like the right thing to do, he supposed, and Bull seemed to carry on well after the fact as did she. Perhaps it was Adaar who was too sensitive.

“What’s wrong, amatus?”

Adaar startled at the soft voice reaching his ears and he jerked his head from the computer screen to see Dorian standing in the doorway of the office. His gaze was fixed on Adaar’s face as he made his approach, moving slowly as if afraid of startling Adaar further. Silver eyes darted quickly to the computer screen before settling again on Adaar.

“I didn’t see you there, kadan,” Adaar started, his frowning deepening for a moment before it eased off of his lips. Closing out his email, Adaar swiveled his desk chair towards Dorian, “It’s nothing really. Just got an email from an ex of mine, she’s coming into town and wants to meet up.”

“Oh really?” Curiosity lit up within Dorian, his lips spreading into a teasing grin before it faded with concern. “And is that a bad thing? Did you part on poor terms?”

“No, not exactly,” Adaar’s big hand ran down his face. “Well, honestly, I don’t know. We keep in touch through social media, which is fine and all, but I haven’t seen her in years and I’m not entirely sure if I want to. It’s one thing to see someone’s vacation photos from Antiva and entirely another to see her face to face.”

“If you want permission not to see your ex-girlfriend, then I will gladly grace you with it,” Dorian replied flippantly, though his face was slightly pinched with worry.

It felt good to have someone outside of the situation, someone without the baggage Adaar and Bull had over the matter. Dorian’s offer made Adaar chuckle, causing the stress in his body to loosen.

Closing the distance between them and straddling Adaar’s lap, Dorian pressed his forehead against Adaar’s as his fingers gripped the base of his horns. Adaar could barely suppress his moan at the feel of fingertips pressing against the sensitive skin near his horns and the familiar weight upon his body. 

“Adaar, my love, do not go see that woman, it’ll make me wildly jealous. In fact, I’m rather jealous that you’re thinking of her at all, now that you have me permanently here.”

A real smile formed across Adaar’s face as his hands gripped Dorian’s hips and his heart fluttered at Dorian’s declaration. 

“Say that again.”

“That I’m wildly jealous?” Dorian raised an eyebrow, his body leaning slightly away. “Didn’t think you’d be into that, but to each their own, I suppose.”

“No, that last bit.”

Catching his meaning, Dorian returned Adaar’s smile. “That I’m here permanently?”

“Yeah, I like hearing you say that.”

“Well, it’s the truth, amatus. Now that you’ve let me move in, you’ll never be rid of me. I’m here, permanently.”

His hands at Dorian’s hips tightened their grip as he pulled the other man closer. “Good.”

“Well, now I know a new way to talk dirty to you,” Dorian’s grin became sharper, hungrier. “I’m here, amatus, _forever_.”

A small shiver of pleasure worked its way up Adaar’s spine. He liked the way it sounded.

-

_It wasn’t often when Kaaras felt small, but now was one of those rare moments._

_Lumbering out of the dense Seheron jungle, came one of the tallest Qunari with the widest set of horns that Kaaras had ever seen. This, as his professor told him, was the head of the security team, tasked with keeping the expedition safe. Looking at him, Kaaras could hardly imagine who else the man could’ve been._

_While he couldn’t have been too much older than Kaaras, he’d obviously led an eventful and rough life. Dressed in only dark pants and a leather harness, Kaaras’s eyes were free to roam much of the man’s body. Scars, both large and small, marked grey skin, an obsidian black eyepatch covered one eye, and his well sculpted chest and abs left Kaaras’s mouth dry._

_And despite the confusion that outsiders usually had, Vashoth could almost always tell the difference between one of their kind, a real Qunari, and a Tal-Vashoth. Kaaras thought that he was rather apt at it._

_Every inch of the man screamed Tal-Vashoth to him._

_His one pale blue eye swept the camp and its occupants, before giving an approving nod to the young Tevinter man who had previously given them an overview of all of the safety protocols. He then moved onto reacquaint himself with the professor and her research assistant, and then started introducing himself to the students. The Tal-Vashoth chose Kaaras first._

_His voice was clear and professional, yet also friendly and evaluating. “I’m the Iron Bull.”_

_The Tal-Vashoth held out his hand, and swallowing down the lump in his throat, Kaaras instantly wanted to make a good impression upon this Tal-Vashoth. Kaaras had nothing to prove, nothing to this Tal-Vashoth or the other students on expedition. But he wanted to say something that would garner him some respect from the Tal-Vashoth._

_And what came out was:_

_“Uh, yeah, you are.”_


	2. Risks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Risks and the past sometimes need to be evaluated, as long as Adaar referees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the slow updates! Though I anticipate they will continue to be slow, but better slow than none, I guess?

_Adaar enjoyed ending the night like this, freshly washed after having made love and lounging in bed with a good book to whittle away an hour or two before going to sleep. His bare shoulder pressed against Bull’s, skin warmed from their shower and prickling ever so slightly as a cool summer breeze swept through the open window._

_“You like him.”_

_Adaar didn’t look up from his book immediately and merely hummed in acknowledgement, he knew exactly who Bull was talking about. He knew that he was being transparent at the art gallery, his eyes lingering on full lips that pulled into a pleased smile under a neatly waxed mustache and his admiration bled into his voice, praising and excited over his new acquaintance. It was hard not to like Dorian Pavus, not to be pulled in by his charm and beauty, and Adaar always went weak in the knees for smarts._

_Stealing a quick glance towards Bull, Adaar could see his boyfriend still working on his crossword puzzle with the tip of his pencil pressing a little indent into the newsprint. It hadn’t moved for a while._

_“Dorian is sweet,” Adaar answered briefly. His mind wandered to the way Dorian’s face lit up at the mention of his library, the easiness of his smile and laugh._

_“Are you interested in him?”_

_Not an ounce of accusation colored Bull’s words, not that Adaar expected there to be any. This wasn’t uncharted territory. But experience taught Adaar caution and his brain told him to be content with what he had, even if his heart was as large as the rest of him._

_“It doesn’t matter either way.” Adaar flipped the page of his book, not having read it fully. “I think he has a girlfriend.”_

_Adaar clearly remembered the lovely Dalish elf on the other side of the gallery who Dorian was so eager to go to. His retreat was swift, polite, and sudden, and her dark gaze on Dorian was concerned and evaluating over her glass of wine._

_“The Dalish woman? Nah,” Bull shook his head, laying his pencil down. “I don’t think so, not with the way the Fereldan with great hair was hanging onto her.”_

_“Did you see how beautiful he is?” Adaar pressed, resolving to move on. “He’s way out of my league.”_

_“Hey now,” Bull leaned into Adaar’s space, lips pressing to the corner of Adaar’s mouth as their horns clinked together. His skin smelled fresh with soap from his shower and the heady floral scent of his horn balm happily tickled Adaar’s nose. “No one, kadan, is out of your league.”_

_Adaar couldn’t stop the smile curling on his lips nor the warm feeling expanding his chest._

_Bull’s mouth ghosted over the sensitive shell of his ear, murmuring quietly to Adaar, “I think it might be nice to get to know Dorian.”_

-

At that moment, Bull was transformed. The usual softness of his smile and the warmth in his single eye were temporarily steeled, harkening back to Adaar’s early memories of his boyfriend. Making him recall how a stern and professional look paired with a body hardened by years of training and combat made a young Kaaras’s knees weak and his heart pound.

With his lips pressed into a tense line, his sharp eye calculating, and perfect posture, Adaar could clearly see the Iron Bull, the security chief.

But it was obvious that Dorian was less accustomed to Bull’s more stern and protective nature as he shifted in his seat occasionally and his silver eyes darting between Seeker Pentaghast and the Iron Bull. Adaar laid his hand on Dorian’s knee under the table, squeezing the joint gently. Those silver eyes flickered up to Adaar as Dorian’s mouth twisted into a halfhearted grin.

This, Adaar acknowledged, was the more serious aspect of Dorian moving in with them. The tangible reality of Dorian’s deteriorated relationship with his parents.

Cassandra sat across the dining room table from them in her crisp and striking Seeker’s uniform, signaling the official capacity of her visit. Forms were spread out against the smooth surface of the table, gathering his and Bull’s information, and other forms to change Dorian’s address. There were also numerous handouts with numbers to call and procedures for reporting incidents.

“All calls from unknown Tevinter numbers need to be reported to me, even if you believe them to be unrelated,” Cassandra informed them, her tone was solemn enough to command their attention, though not as overly severe as she could be. “Any packages or letters from anyone or any company in Tevinter not on this approved list,” she tapped one of the pieces of paper on the table, “should be brought promptly to my office. If I am not around, just another Seeker your name and case number and they will be able to take care of it.”

The list sat there innocently enough. There were only a couple of personal names and a much longer listing of companies whose goods now graced Adaar’s cupboards and shelves.

“Do you have anyone or a company to add? Your friend, Cremisius, he is from Tevinter as well. Are you in touch with his family at all?”

Bull’s jaw worked at the mention of Krem’s parents, but Adaar was faster to answer, “We have no one else to add. We’re not in touch with them or anyone else from Tevinter.”

“Good, let me know if that changes,” Cassandra wrote something down. “Now, in the unlikely event that you should actually see Magister Pavus in Ferelden, do not approach him and call the Seekers or Templars immediately. Dorian filed a permanent restraining order against him and I will have it modified to include you two as well.”

Large grey hands folded neatly on the table suddenly flexed, tensing ever so slightly as the Iron Bull nodded once. 

“According to my notes,” Cassandra’s eyes cast down to her notepad of bright yellow paper with thin blue lines, skimming the neat and looping writing on it, “the last contact you had with your parents was a phone call from your mother from a new number. You forwarded me to the message. Is that correct, Dorian?”

“Yes, last Satinalia.”

“And you still receive regular phone calls and holiday packages from your mother-in-law, Livia Alexius, correct?”

There was a heartbeat of hesitation, Dorian’s mouth opening, but nothing coming out right away. It caught Adaar’s attention, left him searching his memories for the last time he saw Dorian pick up his cellphone and light up at the sound of his mother-in-law’s voice, speaking to her in rapid fire Tevene. He couldn’t recall seeing a package arrive on Summerday or remember any mention of it.

The urge to pry rose up in Adaar, his nosy nature to set things right clawed at him, but he knew better. He had to wait for Dorian to come to them with his problems and if they pried Dorian was more likely to clam up. On the other side of Dorian, the Iron Bull turned his head slightly, his eye meeting Adaar’s look over Dorian’s head. Bull didn’t like being in the dark about anything.

_Leave it be_. Adaar faintly shook his head and Bull refocused his attention on Cassandra.

“Yes,” Dorian finally answered. “I also speak with my friend, Maevaris, from time to time as well.”

Cassandra nodded knowingly as she scribbled notes. “That’s right, the Magister.”

“Have there been any recent major incidents?” Bull interjected. “Is there anything that we should be on the lookout for?”

“No,” Cassandra shook her head, “there hasn’t been anything since Felix’s funeral.”

A jolt of surprise ran through Adaar, the new information startling him. He was versed in two stories of Magister and Lady Pavus’s attempts to retrieve their wayward son from nearly a decade ago. The first one of trying to confine Dorian to their home once they learned of his plans to move to Skyhold and of a second, nearly successful, attempt in Ferelden after he and Felix were engaged. But he didn’t know anything that might have happened at the funeral, only a few years ago. Neither did Bull.

Bull remained still, but Adaar could see pale blue his eye narrowing and he also noticed the color draining from Dorian’s face.

“The funeral?” Bull repeated, coming out more like a growl.

“The one in Tevinter,” Dorian answered hurriedly with a faint wobble. “Cullen and Lavellan reported that both my parents tried to approach me.” His body sagged as he quietly explained, “Honestly though, I barely remember anything from my last trip to my homeland, I don’t recall ever seeing them.”

Adaar squeezed Dorian’s leg again and he spotted Bull’s hand slide down from the tabletop and settle upon Dorian’s other knee.

“The Seekers consider this a low risk case,” Cassandra emphasized, “we do not believe Dorian is in any immediate danger.”

The corners of Bull’s mouth dipped downward. “Funny then, that the Seekers are dealing with it and not the Templars.”

“I was a foreign national when Felix and I first reported my parents,” Dorian answered, “so it automatically was referred to the Seekers. And since it concerns a Tevinter Magister with means, I’m sure the Seekers don’t want the Templars fumbling with it.”

Cassandra half sighed. “Not exactly how I’d put it.” She started gathering up the documents, information to be updated and filed away later. “I won’t take up anymore of your time, unless you had further questions.”

“We’re fine,” Adaar cut in quickly, knowing that Bull was probably bubbling with a dozen probing questions. “We know how to get a hold of you, Cassandra. Thank you for coming,” he held out his hand to Cassandra, “we’ll see you at Varric’s for Wicked Grace next week?”

Her grip was strong and cool, her nod curt and efficient. “I plan to be there. Until then.”

A great tension seemed to release from the house after Adaar saw Cassandra out. He didn’t think her visit would be easy, but he also didn’t imagine it to be so difficult as well. He knew of Dorian’s troubles with his parents, though it all suddenly became real when Cassandra came into the house in her uniform and briefcase of papers.

Settling in the living room to finally relax, Dorian let out a nervous, breathless laugh as he sank into the couch next to Adaar. His body listed towards Adaar and Adaar immediately lifted his arm to wrap it around Dorian to draw him closer, his warm and familiar weight leaning against Adaar’s side. 

Dorian dropped his head on Adaar’s shoulder as he sighed, “Well, that was some way to spend the afternoon. Having second thoughts about me moving in?”

The question was asked casually, a hint of forced teasing, and Adaar reacted swiftly to squash any doubts. “Never. We knew about your parents and now we know what we can do if anything happens.”

Bull didn’t sit with them though, he stood in the living room, body still tense and hands clenched at his sides as he said, “We should’ve had this meeting with Cassandra earlier.”

“And what exactly would have that done?” Dorian asked tiredly, but there was an edge creeping into his voice.

“If I had known about the third attempt and that your parents were still trying to contact you, I would’ve added a real security system to the townhouse, I would’ve been more prepared. I should’ve done so anyway.”

“As you can see, there was no need.”

Bull shook his head dismissively, his jaw working. “I should’ve talked to Cullen about this. He gets it.”

Dorian moved, his posture righting itself as he pulled away from Adaar with his silver eyes narrowed. “You know, Bull, I have been taking care of this for years before I met you.”

Adaar understood Bull’s concerns and he understood this part of Bull, the old security chief and the Qunari intelligence officer who needed to assess every threat, both of whom hadn’t quite faded away with time. Adaar knew these parts of Bull well, but Dorian less so. Bull sounded intrusive and condescending, instead of concerned and well meaning. Bull opened his mouth, ready to say something to Dorian that Adaar was sure he was going to regret.

“ _Bull_.” The name came out sharply across Adaar’s tongue. 

He held Bull’s stare for a couple heart beats before Bull’s jaw snapped shut and his body seemed to deflate as he dropped down into his armchair. Dorian remained rigid on the couch, eyes narrowing further as he waited for Bull respond.

Leaning forward in his seat, Bull hooked his hand across the back of his neck as he admitted, “I know you can look out for yourself, sweetheart, but that doesn’t me I don’t want to take care of you. Sorry for being an ass.”

The creases of annoyance lining Dorian’s face softened as his scowl relaxed. “As long as you acknowledge that you were being an ass.”

“I do,” Bull’s mouth pulled itself into a brief smirk before he got back onto his feet. He stepped into Dorian’s space to drop a kiss on his temple. “I’ll go get dinner started. I’ll make that curry you like, kadan.”

“You had better.”

After Bull disappeared into the kitchen, Dorian turned to Adaar, his eyebrow arched with interest.

“You must teach me how to do that.”

“What?” Adaar had no idea what Dorian was talking about.

Dorian let out a quiet laugh, his face turning away slightly with a rueful smile. “It takes time, doesn’t it, amatus?”

He said the words in that soft and quiet way he spoke sometimes, when Adaar was pretty sure he was wasn’t speaking to anyone in the room. Before Adaar to could ask Dorian what he was talking about, the other mage was already getting up.

“I’m going to go help Bull with dinner,” Dorian stated, “I don’t want the great brute to sulk and think that I’m upset with him. Tears never go well with a good curry.”

Adaar smiled. “I'm sure he doesn't think you're mad, but you are his favorite helper in the kitchen.”

“That's only because you eat more than you help.” Dorian’s hand wrapped around Adaar’s wrist and playfully tugged at his arm. “Now come, I want you to make that Free Marcher fruity red wine drink for me.”

“It’s called sangria.”

“All I know is that I want some. It's been that sort of day.”

This was what Adaar wanted when he persuaded Dorian to move in. He wanted not only the good times, but he also wanted to share Dorian’s burdens. For him and Bull to be there for Dorian when he needed them and in turn he wanted Dorian to be there for them as well.

“Then I’ll be happy to make you some, kadan.”

The rest of the evening passed quietly enough. There was no more mention of Cassandra’s visit or Bull’s behavior until they were getting ready for bed. Adaar was already under the covers, half dozing with a book splayed out on his chest when Dorian stepped out of the bathroom, naked from his shower. Bull was absent, letting out some of his restless energy by falling back on old routines and Adaar was pretty sure he was out in the backyard checking the lock on the gate.

Dorian crawled into bed and under the blankets, sliding perfectly against Adaar’s side with his freshly washed skin and damp hair already curling. He planted his face against Adaar’s shoulder as he asked, “Is Bull alright?”

“Of course he is, why wouldn’t he be?”

Turning his head, Dorian peeked up at Adaar, his expression creased with concern. “He normally doesn’t stalk the house to make sure all the windows are locked or go outside to check the perimeter of the fence.”

The behavior didn’t strike Adaar as odd, but he recognized that it wasn’t something that Bull did much of anymore. Their early days in Adaar’s little studio apartment in Val Royeaux were restless with Bull waking up at every footstep and voice, his large form pacing the length of their home as he checked the windows, grumbled about the fire escape, and replaced the locks on the door. But soon those ticks and habits became familiar before they eventually faded until roused by some perceived threat to their security.

There was a certain comfort Adaar found in it.

“He was like this before, right after he came to Val Royeaux to be with me and start school.”

“Hm,” Dorian hummed, the sound vibrating against Adaar’s skin. “That was a long time ago, wasn’t it?”

“Nearly ten years.”

Dorian’s body shifted, pressing up closer as he tucked his face back against Adaar’s arm, mumbling sleepily, “I always forget you two have been together almost as long as Felix and I were.”

“I always think of you two being together much longer, considering all of the pining you two did as teenagers,” Adaar replied lightly. 

He could admit to himself that he was fishing, hoping that he could coax Dorian into speaking more about his late husband to further build Adaar’s mental image of him. More than just knowing a handsome face, Adaar wanted a reconstruction of the man Dorian loved without reserve. He wanted to know Felix in order to better know Dorian.

But this time Dorian didn’t respond to Adaar’s bait, he merely hummed again and observed, “You and Bull don’t cuddle like this very often.”

That pulled a soft laugh from Adaar. “No, we don’t. We used to, but you learn quickly after your horns get tangled together and Krem laughs at you for a full ten minutes instead of helping. We had to call him at least three times for help.”

Dorian snorted. “No risk of that with me.”

“No,” his fingers traced down the length of Dorian’s spine, “that’s why I cuddle with you all the time.”

He could feel the smile forming on Dorian’s mouth and the tightening of the other mage’s arms around him.

“Now this is one of my favorite sights to walk in on.” 

The mattress sank down as Bull settled onto his side of the bed. Bull smelled strongly of the summer air as he leaned in close and stole a kiss from Adaar before his lips wandered to the nape of Dorian’s neck and then slowly worked down the length of his spine. A breathy, “Amatus,” was whispered across Adaar’s skin as Bull’s hand caught his own and their fingers intertwined.

For Adaar, tangled in the embrace of both of his kadans, everything was perfect.

-

The very last of Dorian’s boxes was unpacked on an unremarkable and quiet Saturday morning. It had lingered for a couple of weeks, most likely destined to be shoved in a closet and never be opened again, but Adaar approached Dorian’s move with a determination that no stray box could withstand. The box filled with odds and ends, one that Dorian hastily threw together in the last days in his townhouse. Printed out academic articles, pens, a half empty bottle of lotion, adapters to long forgotten electronics, and an old necktie made up the bulk of the box. 

But hidden at the bottom was a small treasure. It was a gold bracelet with Tevinter style snake engraving wrapped in a brightly patterned piece of silk cloth. The piece of jewelry was too big for Dorian’s wrist, but it was certainly made for a human.

After putting away the rest of Dorian’s things, Adaar took the bracelet over to Dorian’s jewelry box, carefully opening the top of the high gloss lacquer box and found an empty compartment for it. He lingered for a few extra seconds, taking a peek at the ornate rings, bracelets, necklaces, and one plain silverite ring with an engraving on the inside, all neatly organized in the jewelry box. 

With a small bounce to his step, Adaar headed downstairs and found Dorian at the breakfast table with Bull. Bull was reading the newspaper, his breakfast half eaten, while Dorian scrolled through his phone with only a cup of dark coffee in hand. The coffee mug was Bull’s favorite Fog Warriors football mug, but Dorian seemed to take great pleasure in using it when it was filled with Tevinter coffee. There was some joke between them that Adaar was not getting.

“You are officially moved in!”

Dorian blinked lazily over the rim of his coffee mug before he lowered it. “I rather thought I was moved in weeks ago or have I been sleepwalking to the townhouse? That might explain the sour look Krem gave me the other day.”

“He means he unpacked the last box of your stuff,” Bull clarified from behind the newspaper, his amusement plain behind the sports section, “and Krem was just put out that you finished off that spice cake.”

“There was a last box?”

“Why else would the boss be up this early on a Saturday?”

“It was mostly odds and ends,” Adaar reassured, helping himself to hearty portion of breakfast and coffee and taking the seat between them. Bull was already sliding over the science and magic section of the newspaper to Adaar. “But I did find a gold bracelet in there with a snake engraving. I put it in your jewelry box.”

“Oh,” Dorian perked up, eyebrows rising, “I thought I had lost that thing. Well, thank you for being obsessive and going through my things, amatus.” 

“Anytime,” he grinned broadly. “Now that you’re all unpacked, I’d like to have a party.”

“A party?” Dorian repeated, blinking slowly as he took a long sip from his coffee mug.

“To celebrate you being all moved in with our friends,” Adaar pushed, his excitement growing at the thought of the house filled with their friends and congratulating them on the next step of their lives. Warmth spread through him thinking about everyone acknowledging Dorian’s place in his and Bull’s life. “Like a housewarming. Something like a housewarming party.”

Dorian’s mug clicked noisily against the table’s surface as he set it down, but Dorian himself remained quiet.

The paper crinkled in Bull’s hands as he lowered it. “It doesn’t have to be a housewarming or a party for any particular reason. We can just have a barbeque with our friends.” Dorian opened his mouth, but Bull interrupted with a smirk, “You should just accept it, sweetheart, there’ll be some sort of gathering. The boss has deemed it so.”

“I am not one to say no to parties filled with good food and booze, but Bull is right, we needn’t an excuse. There’s no need to be garish and call it a housewarming, we’d just sound like we’re grabbing for gifts.” Dorian rose from his seat. “I need to be going, but I’ll think on it.”

“Are you going to brunch with Lavellan today?” Adaar asked as an inkling of Dorian’s schedule stirred in his mind.

“Of course, she enjoys judging my life choices most over waffles and mimosas.”

The house fell into comfortable silence once Dorian left for his brunch date with only the rustle of the newspaper and the clink of silverware on the dishes to break the monotony. Under the table, Bull’s bad knee pressed against Adaar’s and Adaar’s hand fell to Bull’s thigh, resting there without intention. 

“Going to see her today, right?” Bull finally asked, neatly folding the paper and letting it rest on the table.

“Yeah, did you want to come?” Adaar offered, though he had no expectations. “I need to go to my office for a bit, but I could call you when I’m meeting with her. We’re just getting coffee.”

“I’m good, tell her I said hi,” Bull didn’t hesitate. “This afternoon Dorian and I are going to Cullen’s to watch the football game with Krem, the Dragons and Redcliffe are playing.”

“Sounds like fun, though hopefully no one will be killed over the outcome of the game.”

“Kadan,” Bull started.

“Yes?”

Bull paused for a moment, his eye regarding Adaar before asking, “Want to watch _The Jaws of Hakkon_ when you get back?”

The corners of Adaar’s mouth twitched at the mention of one of his favorite movies. “I thought you were sick of that movie.”

“Nah, I never get tired of watching you swoon whenever the Inquisitor appears.”

“I do not swoon. Zevran is just a brilliant actor and I appreciate his talent,” Adaar countered, falling easily into step with their ongoing playful argument. “But yes, I’d love to watch it when I get back. It’ll give me something to look forward to.”

Bull leaned into his space, his large hand on Adaar’s thigh as their lips brushed. “Need something to look forward to after having coffee with an old friend?”

Pulling back a little, Adaar swatted his arm. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.” 

Not long after his leisurely breakfast, Adaar was heading out the door himself. Summer was Adaar’s favorite season in Skyhold. The air was crisp in the morning, the lingering coolness of night burning off into warm afternoons, perfect for barbeques and outdoor activities. The city also calmed with its student populations leaving for the summer months, scurrying to warmer climates and beaches, leaving behind the residents who took full advantage of uncrowded theaters, bars, and restaurants.

The halls of Skyhold University were emptied out, filled with an unnatural hush as Adaar worked on grading a pile of student papers from his summer course that he accidentally left in his office. The lack of students was not part of the reason why Adaar enjoyed the summer so much, in fact he rather missed them, but it did mean that he could work uninterrupted. 

With the students gone, it also meant that the university cafes were nearly abandoned. Only students in summer classes and steadfast professors and staff occupied the seats at various on campus establishments. It meant that prime outdoor seating was readily available. So it was no surprise later that afternoon to find Evelyn already seated outside of a popular campus coffee shop, sitting out in the sun with one hand wrapped around a white ceramic mug and her phone in the other hand. From what Adaar could remember, she almost always drank the same thing.

_White chocolate mocha with an extra espresso shot,_ Adaar’s brain supplied helpfully as he wondered idly if her drink preferences remained the same.

She looked up from her phone and a smile spread over her pink lips, widening out to show off perfect white teeth. Adaar had seen numerous photos of her via social media, but she was always more striking in person. Her pale and freckled face with its gentle rounded features was almost glowing in the sunlight. Her green eyes, even more vivid than his, were nearly obscured by the bangs of her pixie cut, her red hair lightened by days in the sun. 

Adaar recalled the way Bull once adored running his fingers through that hair.

“Kaaras,” her Free Marcher accent formed his Qunlat name perfectly.

For a moment, Adaar remembered their conversations entirely in Qunlat, of evenings lounging at home where not a word of Common was spoken between the three of them. To most it sounded like a harsh language, but it always sounded like home to Adaar. Languages came easily to Evelyn, a gift that she liked to flaunt. Then he thought of Dorian and his imperfect fumbling with the language coupled with his grim determination to learn it, sitting on the phone with Tama as they both groped around for understanding in a mixture of Common and Qunlat.

“Evelyn, it’s good to see you,” he said with sincerity as she rose, her arms held out to him.

He allowed the hug, a kindly gesture between friends even as her scent reminded Adaar suddenly of lazy mornings in bed, giggling under the covers, and soft, sleepy smiles. The hug was quick and soon enough Adaar was sitting down into the chair across from her.

“I went ahead and ordered you a drink, my treat,” Evelyn motioned to the tall, untouched glass on the table beading with condensation. “Do you still drink iced tea?” 

“I do. Thanks.” After taking a sip, he found that the drink was overly sweet, making his teeth hurt. He used to drink sugar filled tea by the gallon it seemed, propelling himself through graduate school with caffeine and sugar. Though now he mostly consumed it unsweetened, but Adaar didn’t mention it.

“No Bull today, I see,” she observed, her mouth pulled into a rueful smirk.

“He was busy,” Adaar answered vaguely, “he says hello.”

“Football game, I bet, some northern team is probably playing,” she filled in softly, though they both knew that wasn’t the reason why. “Tell him I said hello right back at him.”

They slid easily into a conversation, catching up on the last few years since Adaar and Bull moved from Val Royeaux to Skyhold and filling in on the details that social media posts left behind. They spoke of vacations and work, of old and new friends. Evelyn was always quick to laugh and tease, and delighted to hear about any mischief Adaar and Bull had gotten into and Adaar was equally delighted to hear of her own adventures. It was shocking how quickly they fell into a rhythm, into an easy and comfortable exchange, but Evelyn was never hard to talk to. She was never lacking in charm and wit.

Curious about Evelyn’s current project, Adaar asked, “So where are you doing your research for your book? Are you still writing fiction?” Adaar tried not to fidget at the thought of her sitting in the reading room of Dorian’s rare book and manuscript library.

“My book is a historical fiction on the Dragon Age Inquisition, so I’m working here at Skyhold University and then I’ll be off to the Skyhold branch of the national archives.”

Some tension bled out of Adaar. “I hope it goes well.”

“Thanks, I think I’ll get what I need.” Evelyn leaned back in her chair. “Speaking of research and dusty tomes, Vivienne says hello. She says that she misses you and Bull.”

“She did not say that.”

Evelyn snorted with laughter. “Ok, maybe not in so many words. But she did say that you were her last half decent student and she mentioned how Bull was of the most tolerable of company.”

Adaar had to laugh as well. “Maker, I guess she really does miss us or she’s getting soft.”

“Soft? Never. I think Vivienne’s patience for others is just wearing thinner than usual,” Evelyn grinned before offhandedly mentioning, “Vivienne let it slip that you and Bull have a new boyfriend.”

“She did not ‘let it slip.’ Madame de Fer says everything with great and deliberate purpose.”

“That is true, but she isn’t wrong.”

“No, she isn’t.” A real smile spread over Adaar’s face. “We’ve been with Dorian since last fall and he just moved in. He’s a really sweet and gentle guy, once you get past all of his bluster.”

Evelyn’s own smile was placating. “Sounds nice.”

He knew that tone and he resisted the urge to cringe as if he heard nails across a chalkboard. “What? What’s wrong?”

Her smile slanted sideways as her expression became wry. “I’m just surprised.”

“What do you mean by that?” he asked immediately.

“Nothing by it! I was just surprised since I hadn’t heard anything about it before. It’s not every day Vivienne is updating me on your love life,” Evelyn answered easily, her voice now colored by more surprise as if admonishing Adaar for his unspoken accusation. 

“Dorian is from Tevinter,” Adaar readily explained, feeling no less agitated by Evelyn, “he can be a bit shy about relationships and public displays of affection. I don’t like to post things online that might make him uncomfortable.” 

“He was married to a man before, right? To another Magister?” She asked as if that proved any point. “That’s what Vivienne said at least, seems pretty public to me.” 

“Dorian isn’t a Magister, he’s an Altus and so was his late husband,” Adaar found himself correcting Evelyn.

“That’s right, he’s a widower,” Evelyn hummed knowingly to herself as she leaned back in her seat. “I didn’t mean anything by it and I’m not surprised he wants to keep it quiet. Being with you and Bull is different, I know that. It’s near impossible telling your stuffy noble family and friends that you’re sleeping with two Qunari, even if they are a lovely couple.” 

Adaar sank his teeth into his lower lip to keep from correcting her again, feeling unexpectedly stung by her characterization of their relationship. _We weren’t just a couple, you were a part of us too._

“Has he even told his parents?” she questioned, before nearly giggling, “Maker, can you imagine the look on his parents’ faces if he told them?”

Her voice was light as it always was, teasing and making a joke of it, but the acid in Adaar’s stomach churned unpleasantly. He couldn’t deny that it worried him. That Dorian, coming from Tevinter and the situation with his family, might suffer repercussions for his relationship with Adaar and Bull. His mind went back to Cassandra’s visit and Dorian’s hesitation over her question about being in contact with his mother-in-law. But he kept silent about the worries that their relationship was costing Dorian more than the other mage could have imagined or wanted.

And her remembered Evelyn’s own careless words years ago, the wariness and accusation heavy in them.

_“What did you expect, Kaaras? You don’t bring the Iron Bull home to have tea with the parents.”_

“It’s getting late,” he made a bland excuse, “I should really get going, I have plans for the rest of the day.”

“Oh, Kaaras,” she frowned at him chidingly, “don’t be that way. I’m not trying to be mean, I promise not to talk about your new boyfriend anymore, though I do have quite a bit of insight.”

There was nothing that Adaar wanted to hear. He knew his smile must have looked as empty as it felt as he politely, “Good luck with your research, Evelyn.”

He heard his first name flawless in Evelyn’s voice again, but ignored it as he asked himself why he agreed to meet with her in the first place. He was always too eager to be diplomatic, to be understanding, and always trying to fix things. But Adaar couldn’t fix his and Bull’s relationship with Evelyn before, and now he found he was unsure if he could maintain a base level acquaintance with her. She was engaging as ever, just how Adaar remembered her, but seeing her in person also reminded him too sharply of what was and what happened.

_She didn’t love Bull._

-  
 _  
Sleep eluded Kaaras as he laid in his sleeping bag, the top was flung open as Seheron’s early summer was insufferable to the Free Marcher. He stared up at the dark blue nylon of the tent over his head, at the white netting at the tent window that kept the bugs out and let the humid night air in, and listened to Bram’s light snores, mixing with the ever present chirp and howl of the jungle’s wildlife. But none of these were the reason why Kaaras remained awake._

_His mind was filled with the Iron Bull._

_He expected to be challenged by the man, to have him exert a superior nature over Kaaras in the way Tal-Vashoth sometimes did. However, the Iron Bull exhibited no signs of aggression towards him, instead he was professional and friendly and never once talked down to Kaaras. And in the increasing instances when they were alone and no one else was around to observe his behavior, the Tal-Vashoth was kind, affable, and awfully flirty._

_Heat crept up on Kaaras’s cheeks as he remembered being alone with the Iron Bull earlier that day. Bull was escorting Kaaras from the excavation site back to base camp when they stopped for a short break in the shade away from the afternoon sun. Kaaras just happened to catch the sight of Bull drinking from his canteen, immediately fascinated by the slow bob of his throat and the sweat beaded on firm muscles._

_Much to Kaaras’s chagrin, the Iron Bull noticed his stare almost instantly. But instead of teasing Kaaras, the Bull merely winked with his one blue eye and very purposefully flexed his chest and arm muscles._

_There was nothing wrong with admiring a handsome, fit Tal-Vashoth, Kaaras told himself in the darkness. There were plenty of Vashoth and Tal-Vashoth in his neighborhood growing up who were good looking and Kaaras never once felt so flustered about admiring one of them. He had no reason to be embarrassed around the Bull and he was determined not to be. He only had to acclimate himself to the man’s behavior._

_Honestly, it wouldn’t hurt to get to know the Iron Bull a little better._


	3. Silences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A question is bothering Adaar and he gets his answer.

_Adaar wiped his dripping hands on a bright pink nug print dish towel once his finished the dishes from dinner and dessert. The plates and silverware were neatly loaded into the dishwasher while the pots and pans were drying on the dishrack. Normally the chore was a fast production after dinner, but the dishes had piled up with guests at the table that night._

_A small smile crept up on his face. Dinner was a lovely affair that night, just him, Bull, Krem, and Dorian, and as he hoped, Krem and Dorian got along well. Perhaps a little too well on Dorian’s side, Adaar observed, catching the small falter in the mage’s smile when Krem’s girlfriend, Lace, was brought up. He couldn’t help but wonder if someone like Krem was who Dorian would prefer in a partner, someone strong and shorter, dashing and clean shaven, human and Tevinter._

_Adaar tried not to dwell on that too much._

_Out in the living room, the sounds of the movie_ The Hero of Ferelden _and good company beckoned Adaar from the kitchen. The lights in the room were turned off, but he could see the outline of Bull’s horns against the flickering backdrop of the TV and the top of Dorian’s head peeking out from the back of the couch, leaning close into Bull’s space. In the quiet lulls of the movie’s soundtrack, Adaar could hear deep, even breathing with the occasional mumble._

_Stepping into the room and rounding the corner of the couch, Adaar found Bull lounging against the cushions with a sleeping Dorian snug against his side. Bull’s arm had made its way around Dorian’s shoulders, letting Dorian slump comfortably against his chest and shoulder. Dorian’s mouth was slack with sleep, his dark hair flattened on one side, and his quiet snores were masked by the rumble of the movie._

_Adaar’s heart actually fluttered at the sight. Dorian was always so put together with his beautifully tailored clothing, brilliant smiles, and razor sharp wit, leaving Adaar in complete awe. But Adaar found Dorian even more appealing with his guard down, relaxed, and slightly rumpled while partly draped over Bull._

_“Too much excitement for one night?” Adaar asked teasingly._

_“I guess so. He fell asleep pretty much right away,” Bull chuckled, the sound was low and rumbling, managing to send pleasant shivers down Adaar’s spine. “I thought it was better to let him sleep and stay the night rather than make him drive home.”_

_Adaar found himself nodding even though it was only a quarter to ten in the evening. “He did have a few glasses of wine, I’d rather he stay over than drive tonight as well,” he rationalized. “Want me to move him up to the guestroom?”_

_“Nah, he’s fine where he is right now,” Bull answered. “I’ll take him up after the movie.”_

_Bull’s fingers rubbed gentle circles along Dorian’s temple as a soft smile spread over his lips and his gaze was focused nowhere near the TV. Adaar knew that he wasn’t the only one charmed by Dorian._

-

The sink was leaking.

Adaar glared at the offending faucet, watching the slow drip at the other sink as he brushed his teeth in the master bathroom. The long granite counter boasted two deep basin sinks, but one was not working as well as usual. Bull’s sink was the problem, Adaar thought accusingly as he scrubbed mindlessly at his back molars with his toothbrush. He distinctly remembered asking Bull to fix it a week ago and annoyance prickled through him with the knowledge that the chore was not completed.

He spat out the toothpaste with more force than necessary and rinsed his mouth with a cool glass of water. It did little to alleviate the frustration he felt. Adaar glanced again at the other sink as water dripping away gathered in the basin before it gained enough momentum to slide down into the drain.

Taking a long, cleansing breath, Adaar focused on the half full container of mustache wax on the countertop amongst several jars of horn balm. He focused on the plastic contacts case sitting next to a worn eye patch. And he smiled at the variety of moisturizers, colorful eyeliners, and a shimmering bronze powder, all neatly lined up beside a glass container of vitaar. Adaar felt a little better. 

“Hey, kadan.” 

Adaar lifted his head to find Bull waiting for him. The width of Bull’s shoulders and horns nearly took up the entirety of the doorway, his nearly naked body a mix of the softness of advancing middle age and the firm muscles of his arms and chest. The impressive sight was only hindered by his pink high dragon boxers.

“Coming to bed anytime soon? It’s pretty empty without you and Dorian.”

“Dorian should be back from Sera’s soon.”

“I wasn’t asking about Dorian.”

“I need to floss my teeth.” Adaar reached over to grab the little white plastic box before unwinding a length of floss. The floss slid between his teeth with a vigor Adaar normally didn’t have when it came to oral hygiene. 

Bull took a step inside the bathroom and asked softly, “Did this afternoon go that poorly?” 

Those were the first words Bull breathed about Adaar’s coffee with Evelyn from earlier that day. He didn’t ask after Adaar returned, didn’t respond when Dorian gently teased Adaar for going to see “that woman,” and didn’t seem to be affected at all that Adaar spent the afternoon with their ex. But it wasn’t Bull’s fault, Adaar chastised himself. Bull likely didn’t want to know, he could easily live and let live, and wish her well without being a masochist about it. For as hurt as Adaar endured over the whole breakup years ago, he wasn’t the one Evelyn was embarrassed by.

_She didn’t love Bull._

He couldn’t help but wonder if Dorian told his mother-in-law about them.

Unease prickled across Adaar’s skin, a discomfort that he didn’t know what to do with and left him oddly restless. Adaar was used to dealing with his problems, of using diplomacy and reason to solve his issues, but he wasn’t even sure what he was upset about. Was it old memories stirred up by Evelyn? Perhaps the annoyance of her out of line presumption? The fact that despite it all, that she might be right about something? Or that he uselessly clung to the old friendship because he thought could be like Bull and be Qunari about it by just letting things lie?

_“How did you think this would play out? You’re not a Qunari, Kaaras, I know you love Bull more than you could ever love me.”_

The sink continued to drip.

“I asked you to fix that sink,” Adaar said swiftly.

“It’ll get done, boss.”

“I asked a week ago.” Frustration that had nothing to do with leaky faucets bled through.

“I was busy this week with the new home security system, I thought it was a little more important,” Bull said without an ounce of defensiveness, only tiredness. In the corner of his eye, he could see Bull shift and he could hear his sigh, loud and drawn out enough to be purposeful. “Kadan.”

Adaar’s jaw clenched automatically, but he withheld a retort rolling on his tongue. 

“It went as well as one could expect,” Adaar finally answered, his eyes closing with sudden weariness. “She’s well and is doing research for a book. She also thinks she’s right about everything.”

A warm chest pressed against his back, heat coming through the flimsy cotton of the t-shirt Adaar wore, and arms wrapped securely around his waist. Adaar nearly startled as his eyes snapped open, he hadn’t heard the Iron Bull move closer.

“You always think you’re right too,” Bull murmured, lips brushing against one of Adaar’s curled horns. “You two were always too much alike.”

It was easy to fall back into that embrace and sink into the warmth and comfort that he was used to. “She doesn’t take anything seriously.”

“I know,” Bull huffed, “but it doesn’t mean you both aren’t entrenched in your ways.”

“She said some things about Dorian that I didn’t like,” he admitted. “About knowing what he was going through.”

He could feel the rise and fall of Bull’s shoulders behind of him as he shrugged. “I suppose she does, in some small way. But we both know that we can’t compare her situation and Dorian’s.”

“Do you think that Dorian’s told his mother-in-law about us?”

Bull’s chest expanded as he took in a deep breath. “He hasn’t said anything about it,” Bull replied neutrally. 

Fingers gripped at the edge of the counter as Adaar’s eyes wandered back to the dripping faucet. “You once said that you didn’t want to be anyone’s dirty secret anymore.”

He remembered the low timber of Bull’s voice as he uttered those words and the haggard expression on his face as Evelyn left, the door clicking firmly behind her. _I don’t blame her, kadan,_ Bull had said to Adaar afterwards, _there are no hard feelings, I wish her well._ Adaar thought that he managed to follow Bull’s lead on that. He had, until Evelyn opened her mouth about Dorian and laughed at the thought of Dorian telling his family about Adaar and Bull.

“This is different,” Bull answered easily, without a care or worry. “If he didn’t tell Lavellan and Cullen, I’d be concerned, but he’s told all his friends here. I know that Felix’s parents are pretty liberal for upper class vints, but I also know this is probably more than they could accept. Not wanting to get hurt isn’t the same as being embarrassed.”

Something loosened in Adaar’s chest at Bull’s statement, something that he didn’t even realize felt tight. Then, almost mournfully, he noted, “I haven’t heard him talk to his mother-in-law, or about her, in a while.”

There was the rub. Adaar found that he couldn’t bear the thought that Dorian might be hiding his relationship to the one person he considered family, that Dorian might feel some need to hide them. But at the same time, he didn’t want Dorian to lose his last connection to his homeland and the last connection to his late husband’s family. Adaar knew he likely couldn’t have it both ways, no matter how much he wanted it.

He just didn’t want to lose Dorian.

There was another deep sigh from Bull. “I know you want to ask him about it, but he’ll talk about it in his own time.”

“You hate not knowing more than I do.”

“I hate Dorian getting pissed off at me more,” Bull actually shuddered. “Things were not that much fun after Cassandra’s visit.”

“Yeah, I know,” Adaar snorted softly. “You’re both stubborn idiots.”

“Remember, we’re _your_ stubborn idiots.” A kiss pressed along the back of his neck as Bull implored again, “Come to bed, kadan.”

This time, Adaar complied with Bull’s request and followed him to bed. Getting settled under the thin blankets and sheets, he smirked knowingly as Bull got into bed, but sat up with a book of crossword puzzles in his lap and the empty space between them waiting to be filled.

Reaching over Dorian’s usual spot in bed, with its softer pillows and thicker blankets, Adaar’s fingertips dragged across Bull’s bare thigh. “Want me to help you pass the time while you wait for Dorian to come home?”

Without a word, Bull’s hand grasped Adaar’s forearm, tugging him up from under the blanket and over to his side of the mattress. Adaar’s weight quickly replaced the book of crossword puzzles in Bull’s lap and he happily leaned into Bull’s space.

Their lips met in a slow and lingering kiss. They were in no hurry, their mouths and tongues move with quiet familiarity as the expanse of Bull’s palm cradled the back of Adaar’s head, his thumb rubbing along the nape of his neck. Adaar’s own arms were wound around Bull’s broad shoulders, reminding him of a time back in the Seheron jungle, silently making out in the Iron Bull’s tent at night and feeling both secure and unusually small in those arms. Years later, Adaar felt the same way.

However, Adaar felt considerably less secure as a loud and piercing alarm shattered the quiet hush of the house.

“ _Vishante kaffas!_ What’s the passcode for the alarm?! Maker’s breath, Bull, come turn this blighted thing off!” Dorian’s voice screeched through the alarm.

Both Bull and Adaar nearly jerked away from each other at the commotion, but Bull seemed rather pleased, “At least I know it works. Better go turn that thing off before the police and the Seekers come.” 

“You did good work, but I still want you to fix that sink.”

Bull let out a small laugh, his breath puffing warmly against Adaar’s cheek. “I’ll do it first thing in the morning.”

“And I want my party to celebrate Dorian moving in.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bull pushed Adaar off of him, patting his ass as Adaar rolled away, “you’ll have your party, boss.”

“BULL!!!” Dorian all but shrieked.

Adaar just flopped onto the mattress and let out a tired laugh.

For all of Bull’s usual posturing, Adaar was rather good at getting his way, a firm word or look often pushed Bull in one direction or another. Dorian tried to act more aloof, but in general caved almost as quickly. And at Adaar’s request, the three of them quickly threw together an informal barbeque for the next available weekend. He wanted it to be a party about Dorian moving in with them, but both Bull and Dorian were able to persuade Adaar to let that go. Adaar didn’t protest too much as it was enough for him to hold such a gathering and for people to see Dorian settled in his new home.

All Adaar wanted was for everyone to know that they loved Dorian and he loved them in return.

And he thought he was rather successful in achieving that goal. The house was filled with people, their combined friends and coworkers lingered in the living room and kitchen. Others spilled out into the backyard to enjoy the warm summer day, sunlight hot on their backs, but the breeze and the shade from the trees brought ample relief, and many congregated around Bull and his brand new grill. All over friends were happily chatting away over beers and glasses of wine, biting into juicy burgers and savory Fereldan brats, enjoying a variety of desserts, and grazing on chips and cheese cubes.

Most importantly, more than one friend commented on Dorian’s new status in his and Bull’s home. 

“I can only imagine that Dorian’s clothes and cosmetics take up the entirety of your bedroom and bathroom,” Leliana Nightingale said to Adaar, her smirk sharp and her eyes knowing. 

Standing in the living room, Adaar found himself enjoying Leliana’s company. Perhaps speaking to the wife of the dean of Haven University’s College of Magi should’ve been more intimidating, her gaze alone could stop of a person cold in the most uncomfortable way, but Adaar glowed under her attention and curiosity.

“We did have to move some of Bull’s clothes into the guestroom,” Adaar admitted sheepishly, “but Dorian has this lovely Tevinter wardrobe that’s worked out well for extra storage. Though the bathroom is a bit of a disaster right now, the other day I accidently used Dorian’s mustache wax on my horns.”

Her laugh was surprisingly warm and amused. Her hand touched Adaar’s arm, a feather light pat that conveyed a sort of gentleness that defied her reputation. 

“I’ve been told that you know all the good rumors happening at Haven University,” Adaar said. “Is there anything I can take back to Skyhold?”

Leliana chuckled, “I’m afraid I don’t have anything for you to crow over, other than the hideously expensive shoes the Chancellor’s mistress was recently sporting. Really, pearl buttons on shoes?”

Unfortunately for Adaar, Solona Amell appeared at her wife’s side, as if she knew that Leliana was gleefully dropping scandalous details about the Chancellor’s affair. Seeing the sideward glances Solona was giving Leliana, Adaar excused himself.

Adaar made his rounds, greeting friends and acquaintances and making small talk, until he spotted a lone bald head outside the crowd and standing close to the wall. He purposefully made his way towards Solas, pleased to see his friend and colleague there, it wasn’t often Solas came out to socialize. Their offices sat side by side at Skyhold University and between the two of them, they held the University’s knowledge on Rift magic. Solas, older and wiser, was often a source of counsel to Adaar, and the man always listened to Adaar with great intensity and was constructive with Adaar’s hypotheses and ideas rather than dismissive.

As Adaar approached, Solas looked up from his drink and nodded in acknowledgement. It was of little surprise that Adaar didn’t notice Solas before, the man nearly blended into the wall in his beige khakis and white button up shirt. The only spot of color on Solas were his eyes and the glass of red wine in his hand. Adaar wondered if it was a strategic move as Sera was prowling around the house, looking for some way to pull a prank.

Clasping Solas’s lean and solid shoulder, Adaar smiled at his friend, “I’m glad you made it, Solas.” 

“It was kind of you to invite me,” Solas acknowledged, his own smile rueful and wary. “I imagine that Dorian is less than pleased to have me here.”

That was an understatement. Adaar remembered the icy look on Dorian’s face, and a sudden drop of the temperature in the room to match it, at the mention of Solas, but he thankfully managed to be somewhat reasonable. Though Dorian made it abundantly clear that Solas was not to approach Lavellan or Cullen, or else there would be a problem. Adaar didn’t know the whole history there, but was content to leave well enough alone.

“Dorian doesn’t mind too much,” Adaar fibbed.

“You are too kind as usual, my friend.” 

Solas’s gaze wandered across the room, stopping in the direction of Lavellan and Cullen, who were busy chatting away with Hawke and Fenris. Lavellan seemed unaware that she had an audience as she laughed at whatever Hawke was telling her, leaving happy creases along her face and her dark eyes were brightened momentarily. In one hand she held a cup of ginger ale with ice cubes clinking against the glass and her other hand occasionally fell to the curve of her stomach.

Solas’s throat bobbed up and down as he swung his head back over to Adaar. 

“Tell me, if you would, is she very far along?”

“Four months,” Adaar answered, unable to keep his good cheer out of his voice, though he wasn’t sure if the news was so welcomed by his friend.

“And she is well?”

“As far as I know, she and the baby are in perfect health.”

“Then she is happy.”

Adaar nodded in agreement. “She’s thrilled. Lavellan will be a good mother, tough but fair, and Cullen will be a pushover. I can tell.”

“A family,” Solas murmured to himself, “as she always wanted.” The elf seemed to catch himself and straightened a bit, his shoulders pulled back. “I must say, Adaar, that I do envy you.”

There was always a soft and old sadness about Solas, but it was the first time Adaar heard anything from the man’s mouth addressing anything near the topic.

“I’m surprised to hear you say that. You’re a much more accomplished academic and mage than I am.” 

“Do not sell yourself short, you’re still young and the achievements you’ve attained exceed most in your position. But that’s not what I’m speaking about,” Solas shook his head before taking a sip of his wine to wet his tongue. “You are fortunate to have found and held onto love on multiple occasions. I do not always agree with or get along with Dorian, but despite my own prejudices, he is a good man. I believe he will continue to make both you and the Iron Bull happy.”

Knowing some of the animosity between his friend and Dorian, Adaar could only wonder how much it pained Solas to say something kind about Dorian. “Thank you, Solas, that means a lot to me. I hope that we can both continue to make him happy too.”

“I believe you shall,” Solas nodded, his voice quiet in midst of the party. “You never seem to lose sight of what is really important. That is not a trait that I can boast about myself.”

“I think you’re the one selling yourself short.”

The half-smile on Solas’s face held no warmth or kindness, but he made no comment on it. Instead, he nodded towards Dorian, “I believe he is rather unhappy seeing you talk to me.”

Adaar caught Dorian’s eye from across the room and the other mage quickly looked away before heading out towards the backyard.

“Dorian will live.”

“But I may not,” Solas jested lightly. “I have already taken up much of your time and I haven’t even said hello to Wynne.”

“I won’t hold you up then, she will be disappointed if you continue to ignore her.”

Adaar slowly made his way outside, stopping to say hello to people along the way. The moment he finally crossed into the backyard, he spotted Bull at the grill, flipping a burger with his spatula in one hand and his other arm wrapped around Dorian’s shoulders with a bottle of beer dangling precariously from his fingertips. He was pressing the smaller man to his side and ignoring Dorian’s halfhearted squawks of protest as he struggled to get out of Bull’s hold. Intimately familiar with the steel trap that were the Iron Bull’s arms, Adaar knew Dorian had no chance.

Despite the struggling mage under his arm, Bull was at ease, happily holding court as he grilled burger after burger, occasionally asking for preferences in cheese or meat temperature. He was busy regaling their friends with stories of his stint running a security company and about how he, Krem, and their team fought everything from spiders to wyverns to the rare giant. The adventurous and violent nature of his stories clashed with the purple apron he wore over his bare chest, bearing the words “World’s Best 2nd Grade Teacher” on the front, a gift from one of Bull’s classes. Krem stood off to the side, adding details as necessary or admonishing Bull for his exaggerations. 

Adaar knew nearly all of these stories by heart and he could recite them himself. He knew exactly where Bull would flourish the account and which parts were true, despite their outlandish nature. But he was still drawn to Bull and his tales, and his feet brought him to Bull’s side.

“Amatus,” Dorian’s eyes lit up at the sight of Adaar approaching. “You’ll help free me, won’t you? Bull is sweating all over me and my clothes are beginning to smell like smoke.”

Adaar hummed with exaggerated contemplation, rocking back on his heels. “Well, Bull looks rather comfortable with you there and he is the one cooking food for everyone.”

“You’re playing favorites,” Dorian accused with a pout, but he accepted Adaar’s apologetic kiss on his cheek. “No one knows how I suffer.”

“Sparkler,” Varric lectured from the side, looking up from the notebook where he was busy jotting notes, “the Inquisitor just knows where his dinner is coming from. You can’t blame a man for being both smart and hungry.”

“I am indeed both, though Bull should be nicer to Dorian,” Adaar conceded, “Dorian did buy him that grill.”

Varric let out a low whistle as his eyebrows rose. “That’s a pretty piece of equipment there, Sparkler. Are you trying to butter Tiny up?”

“It’s a silly thing, he doesn’t really need it, but it’ll make the Iron Bull smile and then Adaar will smile,” Cole answered automatically, his voice wistful. Adaar had hardly noticed the strange young man at Varric’s side until he opened his mouth. “It smooths out the rough edges of old hurts, drowns out the doubts—”

“Ah, Cole,” Dorian quickly interrupted, his smile firm and strained, and his half-filled wine glass was swiftly drained. “I was afraid you wouldn’t make it. Busy haunting Krem and Lace at my old house?”

“Haunting?” Krem nearly choked on his beer, his dark eyes going wide and wild. “Is that why the townhouse creaks so much? It’s haunted!?”

Cole tipped his head sideways, his eyes, peeking out from the wide brim of his hat, were an intense blue in the summer sunlight. “I don’t haunt, I help.”

“Maker’s breath, my place is haunted,” Krem’s hand raked through his short hair. “That’s why Dorian’s renting it out for so cheap.”

“He doesn’t haunt anyone, he’s renting a room at my place,” Varric corrected. “And Cole doesn’t come in unless invited. Right, Cole? ... Right?”

“I help,” Cole insisted.

“Right, kid,” Varric sighed in resignation. Then he looked to Bull, eager to change the topic, “So, Tiny, you were talking about how you saved the Inquisitor from a giant spider?”

“It was a joint effort,” Adaar corrected defensively. “I am a mage of no small talent,” he echoed his old professor’s words.

But that was invitation enough for Bull to boast about his heroics. Dorian rolled his eyes, but his lips pulled into a smile as he leaned into Bull’s chest and his hand reached over to interlace his fingers with Adaar. And Adaar couldn’t keep his own stupid, love-struck grin off of his face, even when he was correcting Bull.

As the evening wore on and the sun began to sink into the horizon, people began to trickle out of the house. Others lingered to help pack up the leftover food and pick up the paper plates, napkins, and glasses that were left behind. Adaar was still beaming at the end of the party, he enjoyed the socializing and thrived on it. Dorian rolled up his sleeves and was methodically washing the dishes with Dagna’s help. And the few who drank too much sat patiently as Bull arranged rides home for them.

Poor Cullen was passed out on the couch, his body laid prone and stretched out along the cushions with only one shoe on, and his face ruddy from too many beers. Varric was quick to keep pressing bottles into his hand, congratulating him, and Lavellan was only too happy to allow it. Now, without Lavellan around to stop her, Sera circled the couch dangerously with a black marker in hand. He should probably do something to intervene, Adaar thought to himself, but tipsy from wine and a good night, he turned his back on the scene.

Lavellan’s body suddenly blocked Adaar’s path as he moved towards the kitchen and for a moment he thought she was going to scold him for abandoning Cullen to Sera.

“I need a bit of air,” Lavellan said to Adaar, her eyes darting over to Sera with her marker, shaking her head with grave warning. Then she shifted her attention back to Adaar. “Come keep me company.” It didn’t sound like she was asking him.

“Sure,” Adaar nodded, not one to contradict Lavellan.

They stepped out onto the front porch, moths swarmed the yellow glow of the porch light and the cloying scent of honeysuckles clung onto the warm air. Lavellan’s hands grasped the railing along the porch, leaning forward as her gaze fixed out onto the street in front of the house.

“Thanks for telling Solas to keep his distance, I know he’s your friend, but ...” Lavellan rolled her shoulders in a shrug and gave Adaar a lopsided grin. “You know how it is with exes.”

Not as much as he should’ve. “Yeah,” Adaar agreed anyway.

“At least we can be in the same house together without the sky being torn open,” she laughed softly to herself, though not too kindly. “But this whole thing was nice, Dorian told me what you were trying to do with it, making it about him.”

“For a man who claims to like attention so much, he doesn’t always care for it,” Adaar replied.

“Oh, he likes the attention, specifically your attention and that you thought to make a big deal about him moving in with you guys,” Lavellan moved away from the railing and leaned against a post, taking a deep breath as her dark eyes met Adaar’s. “Look, I’m going to tell you this because I doubt that Dorian is going to tell you,” Lavellan told him directly. “Earlier today Dean Amell told Dorian that Livia and Gereon gave Haven University a huge check and they’re having the math building named after Felix.”

“That’s great!” Adaar exclaimed, immediately excited for Dorian and for Felix’s memory. He could imagine how Dorian would feel to have his husband acknowledged in such a way.

“Dorian didn’t know about it.”

Adaar paused at those words and his heart immediately sank. 

“Oh no.”

“I didn’t tell you so you could pester him about it,” Lavellan said, “but just to be prepared. I’m not too worried about him since he has you and Bull, but do watch his drinking.”

Adaar’s heart lurched at her warning.

“He’s a lot better about it, you two help, but when it comes to family problems ...” Lavellan drew in a deep breath. “He was always close to Livia and Gereon, and I know this hurts him a lot. You didn’t see how devastated he was when Gereon blamed him for Felix’s death and honestly, I’m surprised he still has a liver in the aftermath, though I would’ve torn out Gereon’s for him.” 

“I don’t doubt that you would,” Adaar let out a humorless chuckle.

“Damn straight,” Lavellan nodded. “Just remember to take it easy on Dorian for a while. I know that not talking to Livia is painful for him. Maybe you should have your Tama call him, he likes her a lot. Or, better yet, take him on vacation and get him a change of scenery.”

Sera’s head poked out from where she was lingering by the front door. Her mouth was pulled into a toothy grin and her eyes were sharp. “Or, you know, bang his brains out so he can’t overthink everything, you and the Bull are good at using your tools.”

Adaar managed a small chuff of laughter as Lavellan shook her head, her dark hair coming loose from its ponytail and swaying into her face. Her lips pulled into a wry smile, but it did nothing to gentle her expression. 

“I’m so glad the two of you are worth all this shit.”

-  
 _  
Kaaras’s heart pounded in his chest, it was the only sensation he was aware of at the moment beyond the labored heave of his breath and the overly warm hands gripping his shoulders. Seheron’s thick, humid air did little to bring him any relief, but Kaaras couldn’t stop trying. An uncontrollable tremble ran through his body, too much leftover adrenaline racing through him and nothing to dispel it now that the danger was over._

_“Slow down, boss, try to control your breathing,” the Iron Bull commanded softly, his fingers flexing against Kaaras’s shoulders. “You’re ok, we’re both ok. You did real good.”_

_Kaaras struggled to obey. Too close to them were the shattered pieces of a giant spider on the jungle floor. Its remains were completely encased in ice, frozen all the way through, and broken into shards from the heavy blow of the Iron Bull’s dawnstone greataxe. The very one Kaaras made fun him for thinking the blade was pretty._

_“That was ...” Kaaras drew in a careful, measured breath. “Maker, that was ... amazing! That was so amazing!”_

_Sparring and mock duels were par for the course in his training, but Kaaras never used his magic in such a way before. Never had he ever needed to defend his very life, he never thought he’d need to. Especially not against a giant spider in the untamed thicket of the Seheron jungle. However there was something exhilarating knowing that he possessed the skills to not only defend himself, but the Iron Bull as well._

_The concern on the Iron Bull’s face slipped away as a large grin spread his lips upward, his sharp, white teeth showing through. The hands on Kaaras’s shoulders moved upwards, warm palms framing his face and fingertips rubbing carefully at sensitive grey skin._

_“You are,” the Iron Bull breathed. “You’re amazing.”_

_In that moment, Kaaras felt like he wasn’t the only one who was smitten.  
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the comments, MissBlue asked if Cole was haunting Krem now and I couldn't resist answering the question ;)


	4. Fixes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adaar wants to fix things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in this chapter! It's been slow going on writing this.

_The door was still open._

_Adaar finally noticed it after long minutes of sitting on the floor, his back against the wall, and his lips warm and tingling. The ajar door was letting in the chilled night air and the yellow glow of the porchlight was spilling into the darkened room. He could just make out the outline of his keys still in the doorknob, the keychain swaying in the autumn breeze and clinking ever so lightly._

_Dorian left the door open when he ran out, Adaar acknowledged in his drunken haze. Or maybe it was actually him who left the door open, as he pushed Dorian inside the house with their lips attached and hands grasping desperately at each other._

_Closing his eyes, Adaar tried to will away the memory of soft lips under his own, the taste of expensive wine lingering in Dorian’s mouth, and the warmth of his lean body._

_“Adaar? Dorian?”_

_Rapidly approaching footsteps alerted Adaar that he was no longer alone before Bull even called out to him._

_“Kadan!”_

_Opening his eyes, Adaar watched as Bull knelt in front of him, his hands firmly gripping Adaar’s shoulders and his sharp fingernails digging through the crisp fabric of Adaar’s dress shirt. Those large, calloused hands moved, carefully examining Adaar’s neck and crept up to his head, feeling the back of his skull. Once no injuries were found, Bull’s hands framed Adaar’s alcohol flushed cheeks._

_“Adaar, are you ok? Are you hurt?” Bull’s voice was somehow both gentle and firm._

_He was obviously trying to not panic Adaar, while at the same time trying to extract information from him. Adaar almost smiled at the sound of Bull’s voice, the tone reminded him fondly of the Iron Bull, the security chief. Odd that with time and distance, that Adaar would think of the Seheron jungle with such warmth and nostalgia, that he thought of the life-threatening danger he and his peers were in as a bit of fun._

_“Kadan, I need you to focus,” Bull commanded. “Where is Dorian? Is he ok?”_

_Adaar’s mind drifted back to the present and thought of Dorian. Shameful tears immediately burned his eyes._

_“Kadan, I need you to tell me if you know where Dorian is.” A tinge of fear was coloring Bull’s words, sharpening the edge to his tone._

_But Adaar didn’t know where Dorian was. Earlier he was in Adaar’s arms, making the most delicious noises as Adaar pressed him against the wall, his leg pressing between two perfect thighs. Then Dorian was pushing Adaar away with a wild and terrified look in his silver eyes before bolting out the door._

_No, Adaar did not know where Dorian was, so instead he said, “I kissed Dorian.”_

-

The morning light had yet to hit the bedroom window, but the early hour found Adaar uncharacteristically awake and unable to fall back asleep. He laid there staring up at the ceiling with the blanket tangled around his feet, his skin feeling overly warm that summer morning from the heat rolling off of Dorian, who was half sprawled across him. On the other side of Dorian was Bull, still snoring away and the sound rang in Adaar’s ears, grating in a way that he hadn’t experienced since he and Bull first moved in together.

It would be easy to blame his boyfriends for his lack of sleep, but Adaar knew that wasn’t what roused him early that morning. Instead his mind was too occupied, too busy with his own thoughts to let him rest as peacefully as he often did.

Adaar was not an idle man, if there was something that needed to be fixed, then Adaar took action. On the occasions when he couldn’t do anything or didn’t know what to do, it drove him crazy. Adaar found that he had no idea what to do. 

Lavellan’s confirmation that Dorian was no longer in contact with his mother-in-law weighed down on Adaar, along with the knowledge that there was probably nothing he could do about it. He also cursed himself for his doubts before and his speculation that Dorian might be ashamed of their relationship. If there was any hesitation on Dorian’s part to disclose the relationship, Adaar was now sure that it wasn’t shame that gave him pause, but justified concern.

He wondered how Felix dealt with Dorian’s parents, shadowy figures from Dorian’s past that he hardly spoke about. People who Adaar only had ever seen through photos that Cassandra had presented them with and the mixture of bitterness and sadness in Dorian to building any impression on. 

Adaar couldn’t even imagine either of his parents refusing to speak to him for any reason, let alone disowning him for being with someone they disapproved of. For Dorian, this would just be another parental figure that cast him aside for making his own choice, for finding some happiness in his own way, like some terrible balancing act. At the very least, Felix’s parents did not pose a physical threat to Dorian, there were no threats of being kidnapped, Adaar reassured himself, and there was no need to involve the Seekers.

He remembered Evelyn’s laughing words when he last saw her and her jab at the difficulty of telling parents about Adaar and the Iron Bull. Her casualness had angered him, but now when Adaar reflected upon it, he knew that she probably didn’t feel as cavalier as she came off. Her humor was her defense, the knee jerk reaction to everything slightly sensitive, putting herself on the offense in an air of indifference and laughter. Not terribly unlike Dorian. Evelyn might have felt the very same apprehension about telling her parents about them as Dorian did about telling his mother-in-law. 

It was something Adaar never really considered before.

Bull’s snores finally tapered off, smoothed out by the long draw of his breath and soon the mattress shifted. Bull’s face appeared in Adaar’s sightline, his long body stretching over Dorian’s form to get a good look at Adaar.

A frown creased Bull’s features as he noted, “You’re awake.”

A small laugh escaped from Adaar at the observation. “Yeah, it happens sometimes.”

Bull leaned in closer, his blue eye narrowing slightly. “You ok, kadan?”

No, Adaar admitted to himself, he wasn’t. He wanted to fix things between Dorian and his mother-in-law, he wanted everyone to happily acknowledge their relationship, he wanted to tell Bull everything Lavellan told him the night before and to form a plan together. And Adaar wasn’t sure if any of those things were possible.

“We’ll talk about it later,” Adaar said instead.

“Kadan.”

Adaar ignored the slight concern in Bull’s tone and reached up with both hands to grasp Bull’s horns, pulling down his boyfriend for a kiss. Bull’s lips were warm and chapped, and his mouth stale from sleep, but after nearly a decade together it was a familiar taste across Adaar’s tongue. Whatever reservations Bull seemed to have were gone as he leaned into the kiss with a half growl rumbling through his throat, making Adaar grin against Bull’s lips.

There was a soft grunt, Adaar wasn’t quite from whom, as Bull stretched forward with his weight settling against Dorian’s back and pressing him further into Adaar.

“You’re squishing me,” came a pitiful moan of protest, Dorian’s groan smothered by Adaar’s chest.

Bull pulled his head back a little, but he remained firmly on top of Dorian. “You like it,” he leered.

Limbs flailed from between the two Qunari, Dorian’s fingers catching Adaar’s chin and the back of his hand landed a solid smack on Bull’s shoulder, earning him a laugh. 

“You might want to let him up, kadan, he seems pretty uncomfortable,” Adaar halfheartedly reasoned, but he knew that grin on Bull’s face.

“I might, after a bit.”

Bull’s hips rolled forward and Dorian let out another groan, this time without any hint of distress. Adaar was already reaching for the all too familiar bottle lube on the nightstand to pass to Bull. At least ever since they hashed out boundaries about magic in the bedroom, this part about their relationship was uncomplicated. Dorian seemed content to let Bull push him around in bed, happy to let Adaar worship every inch of him, he fit nicely into their dynamic. 

Adaar could feel Dorian squirm and gasp against him, eyelashes fluttering against his skin as Bull carefully worked lubed fingers into Dorian. As Dorian’s hips moved with the fingers rocking back and forth in him, his erection slid against Adaar’s, leaving Adaar wanting and writhing under Dorian’s weight. Adaar thought that Bull might fuck Dorian like this, sandwiched between the two of them, a favorite position of Bull’s. This time though, instead of keeping Dorian pinned down, Bull surprised them both by hauling him upright, Dorian’s eyes wide and his mouth gaping as Bull pulled him away from Adaar.

With one calloused and lube covered hand, Bull grasped Adaar’s length, slicking it thoroughly, while keeping his other arm wrapped around Dorian’s chest to him immobile. Adaar lifted his hips up in time with the strokes as his teeth caught his bottom lip to bite back the groan coming up from his throat at the feel of Bull’s clever hand. All too soon though, Bull let him go and turned his attention back to the other mage. Dorian didn’t need any instructions and let himself be maneuvered by Bull so that he was straddling Adaar’s hips, his legs splayed wide as his ass brushed up against Adaar’s erection, his skin warm, soft, and tempting.

He gripped Dorian’s thighs, pressing into soft skin as he smiled up at the other mage. “Hey, beautiful,” Adaar murmured, “going to ride me this morning?”

“Appears that way, amatus,” Dorian rasped back, eyes still sleepy as if awareness had yet to fully grasp him. “Though I’m not sure if I’m awake enough for it.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Bull nuzzled his neck, hands grasping Dorian’s hips as he situated himself behind of Dorian, “I’m going to help you.”

Bull guided Dorian’s hips and let him slowly sink down onto Adaar’s cock. This time Adaar couldn’t stifle his groan, not when Dorian hot and tight around him. It was a slow ride to begin with, lazy strokes up and down as muscles warmed up and their desires burned.

Dorian made quite a sight, naked with only a flush decorating his skin, and his cock hard and leaking, bobbing in front of Adaar with each movement. Bull completed that pretty picture, his grey body wrapped around Dorian like a cloak, hands helping him along while occasionally stroking his fingers through Dorian’s wiry public hair. At some point, Adaar and Bull’s hands met in the middle, fingertips stroking and teasing the length of Dorian’s erection.

Then, Bull’s hand disappeared behind Dorian and Adaar couldn’t help but gasp as he felt Bull’s finger up against his cock and pressing into Dorian alongside of him. Dorian was already tight, stretched to his limits around Adaar’s girth, but it became nearly unbearable with Bull. 

“Maker’s breath!” Dorian hissed. His legs suddenly trembled around Adaar as his eyes clenched shut, and Adaar’s hands immediately stroked Dorian’s thighs. “It’s not going to fit, Bull!” Dorian drew in another sharp breath, the air audibly catching in his lungs, but his watchword remained unspoken.

“It will one day,” Bull nearly growled even as he withdrew his hand, his teeth nipping the top of Dorian’s ear. “One day you’re going to take both of us at once.”

It was of course an impossible feat, but Adaar felt a flash of heat through his body at the thought of being buried deep in Dorian with Bull. And he could see that Dorian was similarly affected, the flush on his dark skin spreading and deepening.

“Not bloody likely,” came Dorian’s weak and unsteady reply, his head falling back against Bull’s collarbone.

Over Dorian’s shoulder, Adaar caught Bull’s gaze, smoldering with arousal and want. As much as Bull liked to be a full participant, to fuck either one of them senseless, Adaar knew that Bull also loved to watch him and Dorian together. Adaar hoped, rather than believed, that Bull might be turned on enough not to tease.

With his large hands and body, Bull controlled Dorian’s movements and set the pace to his whims. Whenever both Adaar and Dorian’s breaths quickened and their bodies tensed, Bull would cruelly cease Dorian’s movements, hold the smaller mage against his chest as Adaar tried to thrust upward, though he didn’t have enough leverage to get the momentum going again. Only until they were off of the edge, did Bull guide Dorian’s body back into a satisfying rhythm.

Bull also took to barking orders with, “Both hands on the pillow, boss, no touching for now,” and, “Grip my horns, sweetheart, just like that.” The command in Bull’s tone and the authority that he used took Adaar’s breath away in the best way possible. Adaar was always put together, thinking ahead, and trying to fix everything, but he could let all of that go when Bull took charge in bed. He could step outside of his own mind and obey Bull’s orders without a second thought.

Finally, Bull seemed satisfied and ready to let them finish as he allowed Dorian to let go of his horns and brace himself on Adaar, his hands planted on Adaar’s ribs. Dorian’s movements became fast and erratic, desperate after being teased for too long. Adaar found his own hands wandering from their dictated position and his fingers again met Bull’s along the hard length of Dorian’s cock.

“Amatus!” Dorian choked out before he came, squeezing deliciously around Adaar.

Just the pressure alone nearly sent Adaar over the edge, but it was the look on Bull’s face, the moment that he knew that Bull finally lost his own control, that made Adaar climax. 

Dorian collapsed against Adaar’s chest, his skin sticky and flush, and his weight a warm comfort on Adaar. His long, slender fingers sought out Adaar’s longer ones and intertwined them, squeezing slightly as they both laid there, catching their breath and letting their heart beats calm. Bull leaned down, pressing feather light kisses on both of their lips, before pulling away.

“I’ll go get something to clean you two up with,” Bull promised.

“Go take your shower first,” Adaar shooed his away, not yet ready to have Dorian move off of him. “We’re not going anywhere.”

“Have it your way, boss,” Bull smiled before disappearing into the master bathroom.

“Maker’s breath, I’m completely wrecked, I don’t know if I can ever walk again,” Dorian grumbled after a long stretch of silence.

“Hm,” Adaar hummed happily, “good.”

“I’m sticky and gross.”

“So am I.”

“Bull came all over my back, I think it’s all the way up my neck,” Dorian complained tiredly. “Where is Bull? He’s supposed to clean us up.”

Adaar chuckled, “He is taking an awfully long shower. I guess it’s up to us to clean ourselves off.”

His palm cupped the back of Dorian’s neck, which was not covered in semen, despite Dorian’s claim. Then with careful focus, he channeled heat into his digits like Dorian taught him to, and massaged to the tense muscles in Dorian’s graceful neck. Almost immediately, Dorian’s muscles relaxed and let a pleased hum.

“Oh, that’s nice. What did I do to deserve this, amatus?”

“I’m just happy,” Adaar sighed with contentment, his fingers of his free hand running through soft dark hair. “It’s not just the sex this morning,” he clarified, “I know you didn’t want to make a big deal about you moving in, but you let me have my moment.”

“You’re that happy about the barbeque?” Dorian laughed, his soft lips pulling up into a smile against Adaar’s skin. “Perhaps I should be obliging to you more often.”

“It pays off to have me in a good mood,” he teased.

“I suppose there is a reason why Bull responds every time you snap your fingers and calls you boss.”

“I do have him nicely trained.”

Dorian snorted. “Years of experience, I suppose.” 

He lifted his head, silver eyes peeking out at Adaar from under mussed up hair. “I’m glad that you pushed for the barbeque, amatus. It was nice being with our friends and just being us. I know it probably doesn’t seem like it all the time, but I want people to know that I belong to you and Bull.”

Dorian’s smile was soft and sincere, lazy in the afterglow of their love making, and his gaze was warm and loving. Any lingering worries that Adaar felt after his conversation with Lavellan lifted for that moment and replaced with the sheer force of his love for Dorian.

He wanted to cling onto that feeling for as long as he could.

It was Sunday, so it meant that Adaar could linger about the house and spend some quality time with his boyfriends. Though he found that his attention was more singularly focused. 

At the breakfast table, Adaar let his knee knock against Dorian’s and his hand found its way over the table to Dorian’s elbow and shoulder. When Dorian retreated upstairs to the office to work on his article after breakfast, Adaar reminded himself that he needed to check to see if his graduate student sent in her most recent chapters of her dissertation. He followed Dorian to the kitchen to graze on leftovers for lunch and decided that he needed to weed the garden when Dorian took a book out to read on the lounge chair.

He also counted Dorian’s drinks. A beer while he nibbled on something for lunch and a glass of wine at dinner. Not terrible, but Adaar wished that he had eaten more as he eyed Dorian’s half eaten meal after dinner. However, Bull did make a vanilla cake with butter cream frosting for dessert and he served Dorian a larger than normal slice as they lingered at the table.

“Trying to make me fat, amatus?” Dorian rolled his eyes, even as he took a bite of his treat. 

Bull reached over into Dorian’s space, his hand grasping Dorian’s lean side. “I could use a little more of you to grip.”

Dorian swatted him away. “None of that at the table! I’m going to be too stuffed for that anyway once I’ve finished eating.”

“Too stuffed?” Bull grinned.

Dorian turned to Adaar, “Maker’s breath, this is what we put up with every day, amatus.”

“He does make up for it in the kitchen and in bed,” Adaar replied lightly, watching as Dorian let out sharp laugh in agreement.

His eyes kept wandering towards Dorian’s face, trying to be like Bull and trying to detect any trace of distress upon perfect features. Dorian was quieter than usual throughout the day, Adaar thought, but he looked relaxed. Whenever Adaar’s hands found their way towards Dorian that day, the other mage immediately leaned into every touch, didn’t object to Adaar’s closeness, and seemed receptive to every bit of attention.

And while Adaar observed Dorian, he knew that Bull was observing him. 

Bull laid on the bed as the day came to an end, a book in his hand, but it remained forgotten as the water ran in the bathroom for Dorian’s evening soak and Adaar shucked off his clothes at the foot of the bed.

“Do you want to talk about this morning?” Bull asked casually.

Stripped down to his boxers, Adaar finally climbed into bed and let himself slump against Bull. He always wanted to talk to Bull, confess all of his worries and fears, use him to plan and plot, but Adaar knew at that moment talking wasn’t what he needed.

“I do want to talk,” Adaar murmured, “but I’m not quite ready yet.”

Bull sat there, his arms wrapping around Adaar as he nodded, “Ok, kadan.”

There were no other explanations needed, nothing that needed to be clarified or justified. Bull just accepted Adaar at his word. He was displaying patience and didn’t press, but Adaar knew that could only last so long.

The next day saw Adaar back in his office on campus, the summer courses he taught kept him somewhat occupied, but not nearly as busy as he was during the school year. As the noon hour crept up, Adaar looked out the window of his office with the sun shining through white puffs of clouds, inviting him to step outside. Leaving his office and grabbing his lunch from the faculty lounge refrigerator, Adaar took the light rail to Haven University on impulse. 

While Adaar loved working for Skyhold University, he never tired of the site of the old architecture of Haven University with its beautiful marble columns, carvings of Andraste, and mixture of old Orlesian and Fereldan motifs that decorated the academic buildings. It was already half past noon by the time he arrived at Haven’s Rare Book and Manuscript Library, walking boldly past the front desk and to the staff offices as Minaeve waved him in without a second glance. 

The library was cool and dry, a sharp contrast from the heat outside, and everything within its walls were a neat and orderly. It never ceased to impress Adaar that Dorian was the director of this library. The researcher in Adaar craved to detour and rummage through the secure stacks, to rifle through ancient texts, but he was determined and he found Dorian right where he thought he would.

In his office Dorian was sitting at his desk, the glow of the computer screen reflecting in his glasses as he typed furiously away on his keyboard. Every once in a while, Dorian would mutter something under his breath, a mixture of some administrator’s name and ancient Tevene curses. He didn’t even notice Adaar until he was behind the desk, his hand raised to touch Dorian’s shoulder.

“Amatus!” Dorian startled, his head jerking to look up at Adaar and his fingers froze, poised above the keyboard. “I didn’t see you there.”

“I noticed,” Adaar chuckled and ducked his head to drop a kiss on Dorian’s forehead. “I was wondering if you might want to have lunch with me.”

“Of course! This is a rather nice surprise.”

“Good, I like to surprise you.”

It was less of a surprise by Wednesday, when Adaar popped into Dorian’s office for the third day in a row and asked, “Lunch?”

Dorian looked up from his computer immediately, his mouth twisting into a half smile. “Let me go get my lunch from the breakroom. I’ll meet you outside.”

They found an empty picnic table near the quad and in the sun for Dorian’s sake. Even in his fashionable spring coat and long sleeve button up shirt, Adaar could see the small shiver in Dorian’s body as they strolled through the shaded walkways. At the sunny picnic table, they unpacked their identical lunches that Bull made for them, a generous helping of cold pasta salad in a glass container, an apple, and three chocolate chip cookies. 

“My note today says, ‘Love you, remember to eat the apple too,’” Adaar read from a pink, folded piece of paper tucked into his lunch bag.

“Mine says, ‘Love you, make sure to actually eat this lunch,’” Dorian huffed in annoyance, but carefully tuck his note back into his bag. “That man is a menace, the school year needs to start up again so he isn’t occupied with our eating habits.”

“You know that Bull is keeping busy, he’s running that summer day camp at the school.”

“Not nearly busy enough.”

“You know he just likes to hover.”

“ _You’ve_ been hovering, amatus,” Dorian clicked his tongue at Adaar, his eyes narrowed in the slightest bit. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you seem to be everywhere I am.”

“I like spending time with you,” Adaar countered. “Can’t I come have lunch with my boyfriend?”

“You have come to my office everyday so far this week to have lunch.” Dorian let out a loud sigh. “She told you, didn’t she? When was it? At the barbeque, I’d wager.”

Adaar didn’t flinch and held Dorian’s accusing gaze. “Lavellan is just worried about you and so am I.”

“She’s a busybody, that’s what she is,” he replied without any heat, only resignation. “Did you tell Bull?”

“He’ll find out,” Adaar shrugged uncomfortably. 

“True enough,” Dorian groused before letting another long-suffering sigh. “Look, I’d rather us not make this into a big deal, not like Cassandra’s visit.”

“This is a big deal,” Adaar protested. “I know this isn’t the same situation as with your parents, but I know you must hurt.”

“I won’t say that I’m not hurt that Livia stopped speaking to me, but it was to be expected.”

Adaar frowned. “No, it shouldn’t be expected.”

“Yes, well, nothing to be done of it now,” Dorian countered. 

He laid his hand over Dorian’s. “I want to do something about it. I want to make you happy, Dorian.”

“Amatus,” Dorian’s face creased in equal parts sadness and sincerity, “you and Bull do make me happy. Happier than I could have ever imagined. What’s happening with Livia doesn’t take away from that in the slightest, I promise you.” Changing topics, and signaling the end of that particular conversation, Dorian added, “Maker help me, I would’ve never gotten involved with you had I known you’d be just as nosy as Lavellan.”

“We can’t all be without fault,” Adaar smiled back, allowing their conversation to stray into less contentious territory.

“I am pretty flawless, aren’t I?” Dorian preened, his back straightening and turning his head so that Adaar could admire his profile in the sunlight. 

Adaar knew that Dorian was playing around, but his heart did skip a beat at the sight of Dorian and his perfect features lit up in the golden sunlight. He had to restrain himself from closing the gap between them and just start making out with Dorian right in front of his workplace. The grin on Dorian’s lips told him that he knew exactly what he was doing to Adaar.

Dorian eventually relaxed his posture and with a rueful smile, said, “You needn’t worry though, Felix was also not without his own faults, amatus.”

“Oh?” Adaar tried not to act too eager and kept his voice interested, but not overly so. “And what faults did Felix have?”

“Not many, mind you, but he could be a jealous man.”

A small jolt of surprise went through Adaar at the revelation and he held his tongue, letting Dorian carry on at his own pace.

“He was used to my flirting, I flirted with everyone back in Tevinter. Men who were interested in me flirted back, but it was subtle, careful,” Dorian shook his head. “When we came south though, it was a surprise to both of us when men would openly flirt back and it drove Felix mad with jealousy. He had this outrageous fear that I would find someone else in the south, for such a smart man, he could be an idiot,” he let out a soft and fond laugh.

Adaar then remembered Sera’s story about drunkenly Felix fighting a chair, which he thought was an old boyfriend of Dorian’s. Everyone had laughed at the antidote, except for Dorian.

“And you didn’t like Felix’s jealousy?”

“Not so much, no. Felix could be pretty standoffish to someone he thought was interested in me, it was not his best quality.” Dorian seemed to catch himself and shook his head again. “It was something that rarely came up though and hardly worth fighting about considering Felix’s better habits.”

There were so many questions that Adaar had, he craved information about Dorian’s husband, he wanted to unravel the mystery of who Felix was so that Adaar knew exactly how to make Dorian happy. But Dorian was ready to move on from the conversation and started idly chatting about his day and ask Adaar about his summer classes.

“Go back your office, amatus, and I don’t want to see you for lunch the rest of the week,” Dorian brushed his lips against Adaar’s after they finished their meal. “I’ll come pick you up once I get off of work.”

“Sounds like a plan, kadan.”

Adaar returned to his office where his research and students’ papers waited for him. But his work remained untouched as he found himself on the website for the University of Minrathous. 

He scrolled through the faculty page for the College of Magi, watching as Tevene names and portraits of impeccably dressed mages passed by before he found what he was looking for. There was a portrait of a well put together woman standing in an ornate library and holding a lyrium infused staff. She was dressed in a sharp looking blazer and a jewel toned blouse that brought out her green eyes, and while her rich brown hair was graying, there was a hardly a wrinkle on her perfectly bronze skin. Next to her portrait was her name and university contact information.

There was barely a hint of hesitation as he opened up his email and started writing.  
_  
Dear Professor Alexius,_

_I am Kaaras Adaar, a professor and Rift Mage at the College of Magi at Skyhold University. I have read much of your research on the Veil and have heard through the grapevine from my colleagues at Haven University that you and your husband will be in Skyhold soon. If you have a free moment during your trip, I would love to take you out for coffee or lunch and discuss your latest article, I have found it most useful in my current research._

_Thank you for your consideration._

_Sincerely,_  
Kaaras Adaar  
  
He hit send.

The office was quiet with the hum of the computer running and the sound of the wind coming in through the open window and every once in a while, there was the chirp of black birds along with the muted chatter of people walking outside. It was all rather peaceful, sitting in sharp contrast to the gravity of his actions as it suddenly hit Adaar like a dead weight.

“I ... probably shouldn’t have done that.”

-  
__  
“What has you so happy?” Bram asked, genuine curiosity in his voice. “Did you find something at the ruins?”

_Kaaras couldn’t stop the stupid grin on his face as he stood at his workstation in the camp, typing away at his laptop and cataloging a recent haul of artifacts. “I did find some fascinating pottery shards on my last dig. They must have been early Tevinter empire, and a fully intact dwarven dagger from the same era.”_

_“A fully intact dagger? Maker’s breath, that’s a lucky find!” Bram beamed excitedly, his Starkhaven accent thickening in his haste. “No wonder you can’t stop smiling.”_

_While the find during his last visit to the ruins deeper in the jungle was a great source of pride for Kaaras, that wasn’t the reason why he was smiling so much. But he kept the real reason for his happiness to himself._

_“It’s been a good couple of days,” Kaaras acknowledged smugly._

_As Bram left to tend to his own work, Kaaras spotted the Iron Bull across the camp and talking to a blond elven woman, one of the security guards. He towered over her, his bowed head nodding absently as she spoke to him in hushed tones. Then, as if he knew he was being watched, Bull lifted his head, his single eye immediately catching sight of Kaaras. Bull’s mouth pulled into a toothy grin and his one eye blinked in Kaaras’s direction for a prolonged amount of time._

_It might have been a wink, Kaaras wasn’t entirely sure._

_The blond elf noticed, twisting her neck until she caught sight of Kaaras. Rolling her eyes, she slapped the Iron Bull’s bare chest and muttered something as she walked away with her head shaking._

_Kaaras’s toes curled in his boots and his face flushed as he remembered: I kissed the Iron Bull last night.  
_


End file.
